To Build A Home
by RainbowTeeth8
Summary: "Ian's body loves you," Dancing Flame speaks using Ian's voice. MY Ian."He says he loves you, he is here right now, Wanderer." A shiver runs through my body with the pressence of my love."But this is my body now. And I am not leaving. Love me, Wanda, love me, MY Wanderer." Ian's body is possessed by a soul called Dancing Flame. Pet, Wanda's host, begins to resist and fight back.
1. Awakening

** I haven't written for the host fandom, which is odd since it is one of my favorite books! I thought I would give it a whirl, and see what you guys think? I'll try to keep it real, and I would love comments on what you think. They would be much appreciated. Enjoy!**

**Rainbow**

One: Awakening

It is early in the morning when I open my eyes, I can tell that by the darkness in my cavernous bed chamber I have been sharing with Ian. I can tell this because there is not quite a light coming through the small, slivery gaps in the ceiling, but sort of a dim, blue-gray color that allows me to see my hand in front of my face, or even a few feet in front of me.

I gently reach my hand out on the mattress to grope for Ian's chest, but my palm falls flat on the bed sheets. It figures; on a morning like this, a rare, cool breeze drifting through the caverns, he would be sprawled out in a deep sleep, how I often find him in the morning. Of course, we have more room, now that the rain has subsided, and we have a room to ourselves.

I pull myself up from the mattress and stretch my arms behind my back, feeling the joints crack and strain. My body, Pet's body, is still fragile, but with the steady work in the fields, upon Jeb's insistence, and my constant work, I've begun to build up some muscle, though it is nowhere near the capacity of strength Melanie held in her own body I once shared with her. Her body can run for miles, whereas mine tires after only working for a short amount of time. I keep on insisting that Ian, or any of the others for that matter, stop treating me like a child so I can build up my strength again. And they have done a fair job of giving me my space, and in this time, I have become stronger.

"Ian?" I call gently, walking expertly in the dark room. There are snores down the hall; I distinguish it as Andy's gentle rumble. Reaching for the door that is propped against the doorway, I realize that it is already pulled aside, propped in the hallway. I struggle to move it, reaching my thin arms out to lift against the width of the door, and slide it back into place so no one will trip on it in the dark.

There is no answer, just a snorting grumble from the door across the hall. That one is Kyle; he sleeps with more restlessness than his brother, whom I have become accustomed to.

My bare feet on the cold stone of the cavern floor, I wrap my arms around my bare shoulders, wishing I had more than the light green tank top and sweatpants. I know these caverns, probably better than anyone, having to learn to travel them in two different bodies. I was always in the dark, and now it feels just as normal as breathing.

Trudy is awake in the kitchen, up early as always, and a faint, blue solar powered lantern is resting on one of the tables. A book is open in the path of the faint, blue light, and she looks up as I approach.

"Morning, Wanda." She smiles kindly, flipping her salt and pepper braid over her shoulder, turning the page of her novel.

"Morning." I reply in my high-pitched warble, rubbing my hands up and down my arms, feeling the goosebumps. "Is Ian awake, do you know?"

"Went down the hall to the washroom." She waves in the direction.

"Thank you." I reply, turning away to her muffled "mmhmm." A few lanterns of the sort Trudy had been using are placed throughout the main tunnel, and I set off at a slow jog, my calf muscles burning. I've been trying to run everywhere, to exercise my muscles, as ridiculous as it might seem. I had to start somewhere, and I really do miss the way Mel's body moved.

When I enter the bathing room, a warm steam touches my skin and I shiver; not with chills, but with anticipation. I stand there in the dark a long time, registering my breathing. My pulse is thudding like a humming bird – I get a vision of their wings beating quickly from Pet's past memories, her mind was very simple, her memories sweet.

"Wanda?" I jump when I hear a voice in the darkness, and a high pitched squeak escapes my lips as I flatten myself against the wall. One thing I don't like about this body is the way it causes me to occasionally react to shock or terror. Not that there is much of that in the caves.

"Ian." I breathe out, recognizing his soft voice. "Where are you?"

"In the water." There is a soft splash in the far side of the pool, the sound of Ian's hand making a tiny wave in the current. "Did I scare you?"

"Only a little." I feel a smile spread across my face like butter, imagining him sitting here in the pool, waiting for me in the depths. "Can you hear my heart?"

"Of course I can, little hummingbird." He chuckles, and I kick a spray of water in his general direction, remembering my earlier comparison to Pet's memories of the tiny bird.

"Pet remembers hummingbirds." I sigh gently, sitting down at the edge of the pool so my knees are pressed to my chest, my toes touching the edge of the water.

"Are her memories coming back?" Ian's body moves closer in the water, I sense it, until his chin is touching my toes. I reach out in the dark, touching his familiar, dark hair, running my fingers through the wet mess of it. He makes a soft groaning nose and presses his cheek to my knees.

"Some of them." I confess. "It isn't just that, Ian. Do you remember when I was part of Melanie? When I would get the memories of Jared and Jamie?"

"Of course." He answers, starting his lips at my ankles and traveling up to my knee. His lips feel like warm magma being poured from a pitcher across my skin, a sizzling that isn't like a wild fire, quick moving and fast, but a slow stream that savors itself over my skin, engulfing my body for him to claim as his own. "Wanda, tell me."

I shiver, distracted by his lips parted now on my bare shoulder. I am suddenly overwhelmingly aware of his naked figure, wet and sheen with warm water.

"I was able to experience Melanie's memories, as she was a human. I get Pet's memories, clear as day, a soul, and her distant memories as a flower. But there are other things – certain smells – mint, crayons – stimulate different memories. Suddenly, I'll get the flash of a math equation, or a red sneaker, and I know that it isn't hers, Pet's I mean."

"You mean that your host – the human portion of her, whatever her name may be – is still in there?" Ian's voice freezes icily, his lips a soft brush against my shoulder. His body is stiff and rigid. "Is she –"

"No." I brush my tiny fingertips over his cheekbone, wiling him to relax again. He is still frozen, despite my attempts to calm him. "Nowhere near as strong as Mel was. She – whatever her name might be – isn't really alive in a sense, Ian. Her memories are just stirred up a little, that's all."

"Wanda." He whispers back in a hushed voice, both of his large hands clutching my shoulders. "Wanda, this is you. _This _is you, _your_ body. This is not Pet, this is not – whoever had this body before the souls came – you are in there, it belongs to you." Ian sounds surprisingly angry, and I stroke his cheek.

"It isn't anything to worry about, Ian." I lean in and kiss his forehead. _Not yet_, I silently add to myself, wishing for not the first time that I had Mel in my head again, she gives good advice.

"Promise me." His lips are against my neck, and a shiver runs over my entire body. There was no mistaking that Melanie's body loved Jared, but this body loves Ian.

"Promise." I whisper, leaning into his wet chest. "I will make sure to keep the promise."

"Of course, you aren't even thinking of yourself, Wanda." Ian grins against my lips, I can feel it, and his warm palm slides under the hem of my tank top to rest gently on the pale skin of my ribs. I wonder to myself, my head fuzzy, if he even realizes what it does to my body, the tingling, the feeling that a pitcher of boiling water is pouring over my skin in a slow drizzle that spreads slowly and surely. "Only of me."

"Hmph." I huff, crossing my arms. Ian lets out a low chuckle in the darkness, a soft noise that echoes within the caverns, bouncing against the rocks.

"You know I was joking." His hand travels farther up my waist, further disturbing the fabric of my top. "But there are certain things that I don't joke about."

I rest my hands over his as they gently link around my back. He is still making me crazy, and my body longs for him in this quiet, dark place. "Like what?" I ask sweetly, and I feel the electricity between him and I, the voltage connecting our two bodies together.

"Swimming." He lets me go, and there is a "ping" of separation in my mind as I hear him drift away in the water. "Will you come in with me, Wanda?"

I shiver, though it is not exactly cold in this cavernous room. Ian is waiting for my answer, but my throat is thick, like I've just swallowed a spoonful of peanut butter. Instead, I stand up silently in the darkness, and slip my sweatpants over my thin, smooth legs, lifting my tank top over my head and leaving the rest of my undergarments along with it. The water is warm when I take a step into it, just as it had been on Ian's body, and I wade deeper until it is about to my thighs, which in retrospect is not very deep with my body, and sink into the pleasant liquid.

It is silent in the bathing room for a few breaths until I hear Ian's breaths, heavy and loud across the cavern once I am still enough to hear around me. I dunk my head underneath the water, returning to the top once again for air when I am completely engulfed. The water is probably only to Ian's waist, but to me, it seems much deeper with my tiny figure. It comes much higher up my waist, making it over my elbows. I realize my breaths are coming just as fast and hard, and my heart is hammering in my chest.

Ian draws me to him with his strong arms, enveloping me safely. He sits down in the water, again, not very deep to him, and links his hands beneath my thighs to hold me up higher. I wrap my legs around his waist and press myself closer to him as he cradles my body gently. It has only been a few weeks since we have moved into Ian's room together, allowing us some alone time, but I am not used to satisfying my own physical needs, and the body I possess is young and doesn't exactly provide much help in that matter.

"Wanda?" Ian speaks while kissing the divot behind my ear.

"Hmm?" I find his face using my delicate lips and plant kisses all along the line of his jaw, something I've found to please him. It takes him a moment to gather his train of thought once more, and when he does, he lets go of my legs to hold my face in his hands. I hold in tighter with my legs, as not to let go.

"How old is your body?" He strokes over my high cheekbones and plays with the wet strands of my blond hair. "When you were put in her, I mean."

I remember when I woke up, being asked that question. Upon seeing Ian, I had told them all Pet's body was 18 years old, which was pushing it, even I knew. She is young, and agile, and not yet fully grown into her body; I know this because I feel the growing pains from time to time. There is no way to truly know, but I could only say she was still attending school before I possessed her body.

"Eighteen." I lie back to him, badly.

"Wanda…" He seems to pull away slightly, but I pull back gently, but with more force.

"Ian, I am thousands of years old." I correct.

"So you're technically an old lady, then?" He chuckles darkly, pulling me in for a long kiss. His lips linger on mine, and he takes my bottom lip in between both of his and tugs on it gently. I let out a tiny noise of pleasure, something Pet must have been used to doing.

"In human years, yes." I answer, finally, after pulling away from a long kiss, catching my breath. Ian's hands are on my back, traveling up to my shoulders as he embraces me. It doesn't take much to do this, as I am very small.

Ian doesn't need to comment again, he just pulls me in once more, locking his mouth with mine. Hot magma overtakes my body, the power of physical love, something I have never known until being human, until experiencing with Ian what I feel. I knot my fingers in his dark hair, pulling him to me with a burning in my chest, a dire need for him. He is panting, and so am I as he pulls me under.

_Pet_.

A voice whispers in the back of my mind, nothing like what I've experienced with Melanie. But I am caught up enough in Ian's scent, the soft feeling of his mouth, his wet skin. I will have to worry about the awakening memories later, when my head is clear.

** Alright, the plot will really get going in the next chapter, but I would really appreciate reviews in the meantime! I love reviews ****, so please consider, if you read. Love you guys, fellow host fanatics! **

**Love,**

**Rainbow**


	2. Sick

**DUM DUH DUH DAHHHHH! *DRUM ROLL!* Here is the next chapter, for you few wonderful viewers out there keeping up with this story! Thanks to the two of you who reviewed, by the way, I soooo appreciate it, and love you guys! Maybe someday more people will discover this story, and that would be awesome, too! Anyway, I hope you super-duper enjoy, and pleeeease tell me what you think! Sort of a cliffie, but the next chapter will be even better! Reviews would be awesome, as I said before, but please! Thanks!**

**Rainbow**

Two: Sick

"Morning." Mel throws a roll at me when I enter the sort of dining room with Ian. My hair is still wet, dripping onto the back of my fresh top, an almost child-sized blue t-shirt with a pair of faded jeans Melanie lent me herself. They are all little too long, and Ian had to catch me earlier as I almost fell onto the rigid stone ground walking to get here, and he paused to let me roll them up. They also require a belt with my small figure.

"Sleep well, Wanda?" Jamie tosses me a mischievous glance from his spot across from his sister, eyebrows narrowed over steely eyes. It is possible he could have heard Ian and I this morning, it wasn't like we were trying to be quiet, and nothing in these caves remain secret for long. "Ian?"

"Eat your breakfast, kid." Ian gently touches the sensitive spot as the small of my back and urges me forward, and I take a seat next to Melanie, who is giving me the same look as he brother. They look so much alike, the two of them, their expressions matching, and it is clear that they are related. Even though I don't look like either of them, I know they are my brother and sister. I love them so deeply, a different sort of love I feel for Ian. "Eggs are gettin' cold."

Jamie keeps on grinning, shoveling a forkful of yellowy eggs into his mouth. Mel nudges me in the thigh under the table, shooting me the suspicious looks I know too well. Ian sits down next to Jamie after returning with two plates of food: Two bagels, lukewarm eggs (he must have scraped the browner, burnt pickings from the bottom of the pan, knowing I like my eggs like that best), and a bottle of water. I take a forkful of warm, burnt eggs in my mouth, groaning at the taste.

"Where's Jared?" I speak without glancing at my sister, and take the first bite into my plain bagel.

"Washing up." Jamie comments, flipping his dark, long hair out of his eyes. I think to myself that maybe I or Melanie could give him a haircut today, just so he doesn't have the useless shag hanging in his beautiful eyes. "Luckily, the wash room's finally open, now."

"Jamie." Melanie growls and lightly kicks him under the table; I feel her leg move next to mine.

"What?" Jamie asks innocently, almost with an angelic quality to his voice. I blush and Ian's foot wraps around my ankle, our secret little connection. It has been – different, beginning to give myself to Ian. The habits of the human body is the oddest I have ever come across, and the burning in my chest, the odd yearnings for Ian – it has been new, and one of the best things I have ever experienced. I guess we were being a bit lenient with where we – for lack of better words – expressed ourselves, because others were beginning to notice. "I'm just pointing out."

Ian reaches out and ruffles Jamie's hair lightly, mussing up a few pieces in the back. He laughs at the playfulness and I wink at him in reassurance.

Jamie heads off to his "classes" with Sharon while the rest of us split into two groups. Trudy, Lacey, a soul we saved after retrieving the Seeker from within her, Paige and Lily remain in the kitchen to start preparing lunch while the remainder of the workers head to the south field to sow the ground. Ian walks in sync with me, along with the others, swinging his hoe while whistling a tune. He is obviously pleased, something that makes me happy.

We work the ground in the tiring sun, working with the reflecting mirrors, and though I tire easily, I work through, despite Ian's protests. My back aches when the hard work is finished; Jeb calls it around what I presume is lunch time, and after consuming a gluttonous portion of fresh bread and packaged ham, we head back to the field.

Paige brings her portable music box, and we listen to a CD we've all heard hundreds of times, enjoying it just the same. Jeb does his best impression of the dancing he remembers from when they didn't live in the cave, offering Melanie his hand to show her how to do a sort of quick-step. The others pause to watch and laugh, leaning on their tools, but I only look up from time to time, still wielding my little trowel.

"Wanda." Ian scolds, coming up behind me with the soft swish of his boots in the freshly-turned earth. I bend up, placing a hand on my back, rubbing a sore spot where I've been wrenching it all day. Ian looks concerned, and rubs his hands together before placing them gently on my shoulders, messaging deeply. "You can take a break sometimes, you know."

"Yes, I know." I tell him. "Ohh, that feels good."

He digs his fingers in deeper, his thumbs getting at all the sore spots as they go down my spine. I let out a soft groan, leaning back against his chest. His arms go around me, and the both of us sink to the ground in an awkward motion. I close my eyes, exhausted by the day's work, and kick my shoes off to feel the soft soil between my toes.

"You don't care about yourself at all, do you?" He asks, resting his chin on the top of my head. "You're an odd soul, Wanda."

"I care about you." I turn to rest my palms flat on his chest. "And so are you, human Ian. You are a soul, at heart, you kind man."

He blushes, his fair skin darkening a shade of cherry red. He brushes a strand of halo-like, blonde hair out of my face, tucking it behind my tiny, elfin ear. Leaning up, I put my lips on his tenderly, stretching into the kiss that makes us feel like we are the only beings in the room. The surroundings mute out in the background, a dull roar to the noises I am now aware of; the beating of Ian's heart and mine, the intake of his breath, the soft lips-against-lips noise our mouths make when they reattach to each other. I wrap my arms around his neck; my elbows bend to constrict him closer.

"Mmmhmm." I hear someone clear their throat and pull away from Ian, squinting up at Melanie. She has her hands on her hips, a peevish grin plastered on her face like butter. Jared's lanky arm is draped over her shoulder, and he is silently laughing.

"Busy there, Ian?" Jared pushes his brown hair out of his eyes, his lips still parted in a smile.

"Actually, I was." Ian replies back, his voice half-joking, half serious. I know the kiss ended without – well, an actual end. "Alright, kids, zoo's closing. Scatter about."

Mel reaches her hand out, and I take it. She pulls me up in one swift motion, her strong arm flexing as she easily lifts my small body from the dirt. I sigh, wishing again for that strength I once had. Ian rests his hand on my shoulder.

"Is there something you want, Howe?" He crosses his arms, and Melanie puts her arm around my shoulders, just another person to tower over me. I don't complain about my body, I love it actually, there couldn't be another host better selected for me, but Pet is just so small, everything in the world, excluding butterflies, is ginormous to the eyes of her body.

"Actually, yes." Jared scuffs the dirt with her toe of his shoe. "Jeb was talking about another raid…"

"We just went on a raid." I point out, remembering the fresh eggs from breakfast, and the cold slabs of ham and bread for lunch.

"Erm…" Jared scratches the back of his head. "Doc's got a slight problem." Another pause to look at Melanie, who offers no further explanation.

My mind quickly jumps to her, of course, my sister. If something is wrong with her involving Doc, no this can_not _be happening. She is my best friend, one of the people I love most in the world, and the way Jared is talking scares me half to death. My heart jumps in my chest, and my eyes frantically search for hers, and she seems to get the message.

"I'm fine, Wanda." She assures hurriedly, wrapping one arm around her waist, and reaching the other out to stroke my blond hair off my sunburnt cheek. My skin stings a little, and in retrospect, I should have put on sunscreen to prevent myself from looking like a jovial cherry tomato. I am relieved she is alright, but there is still the possibility that someone else I love could be suffering. My mind runs through who it could be: not any of the people standing in front of me. Jamie is fine, I just saw him, and come to think of it, everyone was at breakfast, including Paige, who has been slow and tired in carrying Andy's child.

"What is it?" I ask, my voice quivering with fear.

"It's Maggie." Jared clears his throat, speaking of Jeb's sister, Sharon's mother. "Doc's got her in the infirmary, she fainted earlier today."

Magnolia Stryder has never been my biggest fan. In fact, she is probably the one who has displayed the most hatred towards me, and even now, she and her daughter have not shown full trust of me, despite my connections with the others in the caves. They can't deny I have helped my family here more than anyone else ever could, yet they go on using the soft soaps I retrieve for them on raids of my own, wearing the clothes I get in their personalized sizes, and sleeping on the fresh sheets I choose on my own. They are hypocrites, but they are part of my family, connected to Melanie, Jeb, Jamie… I notice now Mel wears a mask of worry.

"What's the matter?" Ian's voice sounds worried, and I feel his hand slip into mine. "It's pretty warm out today. Maybe she just got too hot?"

"Doc's checking her vitals right now." Mel sighs, looking off at Brandt who is just getting to tell Jeb that his sister is ill. I remember how a thought I had earlier, how word spreads like wildfire in the caves. "She's delirious, for now, Doc says. He doesn't think it's overheat, dehydration. It's something else, she's prone to stroke. Wanda, she's – she's sick. We don't have the medicine, oh-"

She wraps her arms around me, touching her forehead to my shoulder. I have hardly ever seen Melanie weaken. Angry, yes, many times, sometimes her voice was even more dominant than my own in my head. While sharing a body, every thought she had was vibrant and aware in my head, she was often very colorful in her expression. I wrap my arms around her tightly, holding her close, rubbing her back. When my sister needs me, I am here.

"We're going, Mel, don't worry." I press the side of my cheek to her shoulder as she kneels over to hug me. "We're going out right now, to get the medicine, aren't we Ian?" It is more of a statement than a question, and I will be going, no matter what he says.

"You aren't going alone." Jared interjects, meeting my eyes. He is still familiar, Jared Howe, a man I once loved. I suppose I will always have a love in my heart for him, but my body and soul belongs to Ian. "Mel and I will go with you, in case you get held up for any reason."

"I won't." I tell him surely.

"Wanda isn't going without me." Ian states protectively, nudging his shoulder in front of mine as Melanie pulls away.

"I'm strong enough to deal with my own species." I argue back, crossing my arms over my chest when Melanie drops my hand to lean heavily into Jared. Ian shrugs, and I know there is no way that he will allow me to go on my own. Even though he is the one in danger in my world, he is still convinced it is the other way around.

"Maggie's dying." Melanie gasps again, and I hear the rasp in her voice as she speaks around the lump in her throat. "She's older, Wanda. What if we can't save her? She's held this group together in so many ways. I know she resents you, but she's my aunt."

"Let's go." I say, that is all I need to hear. I am already stomping out of the fields, my pants becoming unrolled again. "We can get to the city by morning; get back in a day, if we use our time wisely. Maggie won't die tonight." I grit my teeth, stomping into the dim light of the caves. The blue lanterns are placed periodically along the pathway now, lighting out way.

Jared and Melanie follow, game for the mission I am already planning, but Ian is hesitant. His long strides easily surpass my tiny jogs, and he stops in our paths.

"Wanda, Mel." His voice is low, unsure. "We can't just plan an overnight raid!"

"Why not?" I gently slip past him, dragging Mel with me. Jared slides along for the ride.

"I – I –" He stammers, his hands flailing in the air in front of him, trying to form the words his mouth can't. "What if something happens?"

"This is a soul's world." I roll my eyes, a habit I picked up from Melanie's memories. She is quite often sarcastic. "And I am a soul on the outside, even if I am a human on the inside. I think I know how to navigate my own world."

"You're human enough for me." Ian growls, not particularly angry with me, but with my rationality.

"We're going." I tell him, standing my ground. "Jared, get the jeep ready. We need to go. The sooner the better."

He nods and disappears down the darkened corridor. I turn around and keep on walking, scrounging for supplies. There will be a raid tonight, and I will retrieve the medicine to cure Maggie.

**So, what did you think? Type it in that review box ad let me know, my lovelies! Thanks again for reaching the end of the second chapter, and you're awesome! I will have the next chapter up soon, so spread the word if you like this story! Love you guys!**

**Rainbow**


	3. Gone

**Hello, my amazing readers! Here is chapter three, my latest masterpiece! I hope you enjoy it, and please tell me what you think! A special shout-out goes to all of you who have reviewed so far! Thank you so much! Also, if you see any spelling mistakes, or any other mistakes for that matter, please leave a comment in the box to let me know, or PM. I just need to know so I can fix them, so thank you! :D I hope you enjoy, and happy reading!**

**Rainbow **

Three: Gone

"Let me drive, now." I tell Ian as he turns down a bumpy dirt road. His eyebrows lower in frustration, and from the passenger seat of the van, I rub his tense shoulder gently. "Please, Ian."

He grips the steering wheel, hardly letting his foot off the gas pedal. Jared, speaking from the back, clears his throat and sits up a little bit. "Ian, come one. You know Wanda's right." He shifts Melanie's sleeping body, and she sniffles against his shoulder. The sun is just rising, and we are nearing the city.

Ian slows hesitantly and pulls over the side of the road. I open my door and hop out onto the gravel, the humid air washing over my skin. I feel a dot of perspiration start at the back of my neck, and I wipe it away as I change places with Ian.

"I can do this." I tell him. "I've done it a hundred times before. Remember when I came with Jared to get the medicine for Jamie?" The car rumbles as I pull away, of course after I adjust the seat nearly so I am under the steering wheel so I can reach the pedals.

"She was a genius." Jared comments, stretching his legs out in the back, I can see in the mirror. I know his arm must be asleep, and he seems uncomfortable, but he doesn't move Mel from her place against his body.

"If it was Melanie going in there, you'd be like this, too." Ian grumbles, slipping on his dark, shaded glasses as the lights of the early-morning city come into view. Jared does the same, holding Mel's in his free hand as she stirs.

"Melanie doesn't have glowing eyes." Jared points out, not rudely towards me, just a fact. "Wanda is safe. This is her world."

Ian is quiet as I drive through the mostly sleeping suburban area, easing the van down the roads at exactly the posted speed limit. Souls don't speed, or break the law for that matter, just another thing Ian would be a suspect for. He tends to go 10 over the limit. I find the clinic where I remember Jared taking me to get the medicine to save Jamie's life. I park facing outwards, just in case we need to get away fast, and Jared and Melanie, who is now awake, crouch down in the back under a heavy blanket. Ian doesn't budge.

"Please get in the back, Ian." I sigh, turning to his sullen figure. "I'll be right back, I promise you."

"You can't walk in to the clinic feigning fainting on your own." He unbuckles his own seatbelt. "That wouldn't be right; someone would have come to help you if you were that sick."

I process in my head what he is suggesting. The plan is clear: pretend I have the symptoms Maggie possessed, fainting, dizziness, headaches, and find out what serums or medicines the souls have invented to cure this illness, whatever it is, and return to the caves to help Melanie's aunt. Ian wants to come with me, that is what he is telling us.

"No." I simply say, almost laughing at his ridiculous plan. Souls are not suspicious, but if they even got one glimpse of his eyes, "all Hell would break loose," as Jared would say. It is similar to the reaction the humans had when they saw my eyes for the first time when I was in Melanie's body, but the souls wouldn't immediately get out their guns and point them at Ian. The seekers would be called in a situation like that. Remembering the seekers, I shudder at the thought. "Ian, you know what happened to Mel when they found her."

"Nothing will happen. It's an innocent little clinic filled with innocent little people." He rolls his eyes behind his dark, tinted glasses.

"That isn't a good idea." I tell him with finality.

"Wanda." Melanie says from the back, now awake and wearing her glasses. "Ian has a point. If you had the symptoms Maggie had, there's no way you could have driven yourself here."

"My kind doesn't have suspicion." I tell her again, a known fact.

"Yes, but what if they don't give you an accurate diagnosis?" Melanie points out, and my chest burns with her agreement with Ian. I know she is aware of my world, her most of anyone, what will happen if they discover Ian. "If you can't fake it enough to get the right medicine."

"We'll make sure he's safe, Wanda." Jared reassures, but I am flaming with emotion.

"If I can't go alone, you can't go alone." Ian pushes his black hair out of his eyes and then cracks his knuckles. "I'll keep my glasses on; you said they wouldn't be suspicious." His hand slips into mine, but I try to pull away. His mouth turns down in a frown, and I place my palm on top of his hand lightly. Something just tells me this is not a good idea. I care so much about Ian, I wouldn't be able to stand if something happened, if he was discovered.

"Please, Wanda." Melanie's serious eyes lock with mine, pleading to me, her sister. "Maggie needs you. You're the only one who can help her."

I let out a sigh that I wasn't aware I was holding in for so long. It is like a gust of frigid wind coming from my mouth. "If something happens." I reply, slipping my hand into his and holding it to my cheek. It is warm, and I press my lips to the back of his hand.

"It won't." He whispers, and it is like we are the only two in the car. "We'll just get in and get out."

"Good luck." Jared winks before he ducks down to hide under the blanket in the back.

"Thank you." Melanie whispers, and follows after him.

I get out of the car, slinging my small, brown backpack over my shoulder, and take Ian's arm. I lock the car, just to be safe, and put the keys in my pocket.

"I'm supposed to be dizzy." I whisper to him. "Try to look like you're leading me."

"You're quite a good actress." Ian holds under my arms. I stumble for emphasis, and he almost doesn't catch me in surprise. He pushes open the door to the clinic, and I try to look sickly as he leads me to the front desk. I hope that he has been around enough of my kind to understand how the souls speak, the gentleness to their voices, no edge to it at all.

"Oh, dear." The receptionist stands up at her tall desk, wringing her hands together. "What happened, dear?"

"My friend just fainted." Ian speaks gently, but with just enough worry injected into his voice. I feel his heart beating. "She says she is very dizzy."

The receptionist picks up an intercom speaker and talks into it. "Healer Fawn, please come to the main lobby." And then she turns to Ian. "How long has she been like this?"

"Since this morning." Ian speaks smoothly.

"What is her name?" She asks him, and I allow my body to fall, my knees weakening. Ian answers as he is pulling my body up.

"Paints Many Colors." He replies, and I let out a mental sigh of relief at his reply. "Please hurry, she isn't well."

"Healer Fawn is on her way." The kind soul replies. "Ah, here she is. We're a bit low on staff today. We apologize for the wait."

"It isn't a problem." Ian turns to the Healer as she makes her way towards us. She is a tall, sleek woman with short, blonde hair, possibly in her late forties or early sixties. Her features are sharp, but she has a kind face.

"Thank you, Light Weaver." Healer Fawn reaches out to me, and I stumble as Ian doesn't let go. "Don't worry, Paints Many Colors, we will make sure you become well. What is your name, Paints Many Colors' friend?"

"William." Ian nods his head, still clinging to me.

"William, we will make sure your friend is taken care of." Healer Fawn gently separates my body from Ian's. "You may take a seat in the waiting room, and we will bring her back just as soon as she is well."

Ian turns around and takes a seat one of the plush, black chairs, slumping just a little bit more than a soul would. Healer Fawn holds my body up, as I am still slumping, and I almost fall to the floor, I get so deeply involved in my charade.

"Almost there, Paints Many Colors." The Healer turns a corner, still holding me, and we enter a small hospital-looking room with a paper-covered hospital bed. She helps me up onto it, and I close my eyes, remembering what it feels like to be dizzy. I also noticed that, just like last time, there are clear, glass cases of Soul-oriented medicines.

"Can you talk, dear?" Healer Fawn asks, gently stroking my silky, blonde hair.

"I – I think I can." I falsely stutter. "Everything is spinning. I don't want to faint again."

"You won't, Paints Many Colors." The Healer opens one of the cabinets and takes out a silver aerosol can.

"What's that?" I ask with feigned panic.

"It is just _**CALM**_, Paints. This will help you relax. Just inhale this mist." She sprays a small bit from the can under my nose, and I inhale the grape-scented mist. My heart rate goes down almost immediately, and I can breathe evenly.

"This is called _**STEADY**_." Healer Fawn opens a small tub of white, solidified liquid. She takes a bit of it on her gloved finger, and smears it with easy under my nose.

"What does it do?" I ask, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Don't be startled, Paints Many Colors, but it is just in case there is a problem in your brain."

_There's a problem in your brain._ A soft voice whispers in the back of my head and my heart leaps again, my breath stuttering at the voice.

"It's alright." The Healer sprays another mist of _**CALM**_, and I inhale again, this time actually needing the calmness. "It's just in case there is a problem, which if you are dizzy, the _**STEADY **_should take care of that. Almost done, we just need to give you some _**CLEAR**_."

"What is _**CLEAR**_?" I again ask.

"You just put a drop on your tongue." Healer Fawn has me open my mouth, and from the squirt bottle, she carefully squeezes out a single drop onto the tip of my tongue. The salvia mixes with the unflavored droplet, and slides down my throat. "It works quite efficiently, actually. It will spread throughout the rest of your body, and clear out any other infections that the _**STEADY **_didn't take care of on the inside."

"I think I'm beginning to feel better now." I sit up slowly. "I'm very thirsty, though." I remember how I sent the Healer away the last time I came here.

"That's normal, Paints Many Colors. Will you be alright while I go and get you a glass of water?"

"I think I will be fine." I sit up completely now, rubbing the back of my head. "Thank you, Healer."

She exits the room, and as soon as the door is closed, I am on my feet. Of course, the cabinets are not locked, no one would ever steal anything, and there is a heavy supply of advanced medicines. I stuff a few cans of _**CALM**_ into my brown backpack, just in case we would ever need them in the caves, and a few of both _**CLEAR **_and _**STEADY**_ go into the backpack along with it. Before Healer Fawn gets back, I climb back onto the table/bed, and wait for her to return.

"Here you are, Paints Many Colors." Healer Fawn opens the door and hands me a tall, cool glass of water. "Are you feeling better?"

"Thank you." I take the glass and down all of it in two sips. "Much better."

"Do you think you are well enough to return to your friend, William?" She helps me off the table, taking not even the slightest of notice to my bulging backpack that jingles when I move even the slightest bit. "Would you like me to locate someone to bring you home?"

"William will take me home." I smile, thinking of Ian waiting for me with nervousness. Everything is going to be alright. "We are very good friends."

"Ah, the human bodies." The Healer speaks as we head down the hall once again. "They feel such a need for companionship."

"Yes, they are my favorite species, so far." I reply, speaking the truth for the first time since entering the clinic.

"For me, as well." She smiles as we reach the lobby. "Here we are, Paints. Pleasure healing you today, and please return if there are any problems. There probably won't be."

"I will." My eyes scan over the receptionist's desk, noticing each of the women sitting there have left, for some reason. No one is in the room at all, in fact.

"Where is Ia-" I stop myself just in time. "William?" I thought he would wait for me.

"I'm not sure where any of my nurses are, actually." Healer Fawn's light, feather-like eyebrows go up, she is just as clueless as I am.

I take a few steps into the lobby, looking for any clues as to where they have gone. I can't see anyone standing outside, no patients awaiting care. The Healer turns around, heading towards the back of the building again.

"Where are you going?" I ask her, panic arising in my chest, despite the _**CALM**_.

"I'm just going to look for any other colleagues." She replies. "I will be right back, Paints Many Colors. Just call if you need anything."

She disappears down the hall, and I just stand there by myself, puzzled. Is it possible Ian went back the van to check on Mel and Jared? He was so content on helping me, why would he leave me so suddenly without an explanation? It is so odd, and I turn to head out the door to check on Melanie and Jared, who are still hiding in the van.

Something catches my eye, the reflection of light against a reflective pane near one of the comfortable-looking black chairs. I take a few echoing steps closer and lean down to pick up the mangled object.

It is Ian's pair of sunglasses.

**Oooh, sorry for the cliffhanger! Tell me what you think, I once again ask. :D The next chapter will be up soon, so I look forward to posting it! Thanks you guys!**

**Rainbow**


	4. Not Returned

Four: Not Returned

I hold up the cracked pair of sunglasses up to look at them. They are definitely Ian's, I know that much, but this is not right. Why are they on the ground? And where is Ian?!

I rush through the empty lobby, pushing the glass-paneled doors open. The sun is up now, and I squint in the hot, Arizona brightness. My eyes scan the parking lot that is mostly empty by now, and my gaze lands on the van, thankfully still there and seemingly untouched. As fast as my body will let me, I sprint to the vehicle, yanking on the handle of the car door. It starts to beep and set off an alarm, a loud, whooping siren. I let out a yell and throw my backpack off my shoulder, digging for the keys to deactivate the noise.

"Can I help you with something, Miss?" A man walking a dog on the sidewalk stops to ask. The dog sits at his feet respectfully.

"No." I pant. "Just forgot my car was locked. Th- thank you."

"It's no problem." He gently tugs on his dog's leash, and the both of them walk off down the sidewalk. I unlock the van and dive into the car, slamming it shut.

"Mel, J-Jared." I heave from my sprint. Thankfully, the blanket shifts in the back, and Melanie's head pops up, her hair mussed up and sticking up on one side.

"Where's Ian?" She asks, brushing her flyaways from her face.

Unable to speak, I hold up the crushed pair of sunglasses. Jared sits up, and I hear his intake of breath as he realizes what happened.

"Oh, God…" Mel just stares, and I can see the fear in her eyes as her pupils dilate to tiny, black dots. "You don't think-"

"No." My voice is as low as the vocal chords will allow. "Don't go anywhere. I'll be right back."

I open the door, sliding out until my feet, clad in all black sneakers, touch the uneven asphalt of the parking lot. As not to look suspicious, I briskly power walk back to the clinic, pulling open the door to enter once again. Still, there is no sign of life within the clinic, though I know Healer Fawn is still in the back of the building somewhere.

Getting down on my hands and knees, I look under each of the chairs in search of anything else besides the one pair of glasses. There is nothing under the 9 of 10 of them, but at the one nearest the door, farthest from the place where I found the shades, there is a crumpled piece of a magazine. I pull it out from underneath the chair, folding it gently across my knee.

_I will meet you there._

That is all that is written in dark, black pen across the bottom of the waxy page under an article titled "_**Birtha's Rosemary Chicken Recipe.**_" I stare at it a long time, the sloppily written five words in Ian's messy, boyish handwriting.

"Paints Many Colors?" Healer Fawn is suddenly there again, her voice protruding through the silence, and my fist instinctively crumples up the one page. "Are you alright?"

"I'm alright." I answer, rising to my feet with ease. "I just… I just – had a hankering for rosemary chicken." I hold out the crumpled magazine page, the title still partially visible.

"Ah." She replies steadily. "Well, feel free to take the recipe with you."

"Thank you." I turn toward the door. "I have to go now."

"Feel better." She calls, but I don't look over my shoulder. I am powerwalking back to the van where Jared and Melanie are waiting. I pull open the door and slide into the driver's side, still gripping Ian's note.

"Wanda?" Melanie puts her hand on my shoulder from the back. "What happened to Ian?"

I thrust the note to her, putting my head in my hands. I feel the tears flooding in my eyes, and they silently begin to fall in tributaries down my face. I brush them away over and over, but they just won't stop coming.

"Wanda, come here." Mel says, and she doesn't have to tell me twice. I slide into the back, and she closes her strong arms around me as I cry into her shoulder. Jared's hands knead my shoulders, calming my rigid body down. "Wanda, Wanderer, look at me."

I look into her eyes that are wet themselves.

"He says he will meet us there."

"Where is 'there?'" Jared keeps on rubbing my back, his soft hand moving my long, blond hair aside.

"The caves, I assume." Wanda replies to him, like I am out of the conversation.

"Maybe he'll come back here." I sob into Mel's shoulder, gasping my breath in, imagining my lungs sucking in and out like a hyperventilating individual with a paper bag. "I don't want to leave him. I _won't_ leave Ian here, Mel, I _won't_."

"Shhh." She kisses the back of my head, getting a face full of fluffy, blonde hair. "Wanda, we'll stay here as long as you want."

"Maggie…" Jared begins, but Melanie shushes him.

"No, he's right." I force the words out. "Maggie needs the medicine. We won't lose anyone else in the caves. We've already lost Walter, Wes… All because we didn't get medicine in time." My mind flashes to memories, terrible of poor, old Walter, mistaking me as his wife, Gladys, and gripping to my hand like I was the only thing holding him to the earth.

"I don't think Ian will be back here, whatever he had to do." Jared points out, slipping the note back into my hand. My shaking hands fold it into a neat square, tucking it into my back pocket. "I'm sure he'll steal a car and be back to the caves before we are. I bet he just got held up."

"You're right." I sniff, pulling away from Melanie's embrace. "And Maggie needs the medicine. Ian will be there, right?"

"Wanda…" Jared starts.

"_Right_?" I ask again.

"Right." He sighs with no sense of confidence in his tone at all.

I climb back into the front seat and start the car shakily. I pull out of the parking lot, my mind only locked on Ian; what could have happened in the time I was being "healed," where he is right now. We rumble down the road, and I stare straight forward, focused on the white and yellow lines on the road, and the speed limits posted at different intervals.

I make it out of the city, thankfully, before I break down.

My entire body quakes with sobs, and I let go of the steering wheel and fold up, my small little body. Jared leaps for the wheel, turning the car back onto the abandoned road, and steers until the van comes to a stop. My knees are to my chest, almost involuntarily curled up in a sort of ball, sobbing silently with a little gasp every now and then. My body shakes as a sob, Ian's face dancing in ad out of my vision.

There is the sound of car doors, Wanda and Jared speaking (I can't hear what they are saying) and finally, my own door opens, and sunlight streams over my body. Strong arms wrap around my body, and the scent of Jared is all around me as he lifts me from the car. I resist, but he is much stronger, and he carries me around to the other side of the car, opening the passenger side door.

"NO-!" I try to resist, but he gently sets me in the passenger seat and buckles into the driver's side. The car is still running, so he pulls away from the side of the abandoned road.

"Sorry, Wanda." He reaches over and pats my back gently. Mel takes my hand from the back of the car, her sunglasses reflecting the sunlight.

"Ian…" I whisper, curling in on myself. Mel buckles the seatbelt over my lap; souls don't break the law, and wearing your seatbelt is the law.

"Wanda, this is a sticky situation." Melanie strokes my hair, still hidden in the back. "He said he would meet us there. Has Ian ever broken a promise to you?"

"No." I sniff, wiping my eyes. It has been a long time since I have cried like this, probably since Mel and I shared a body.

"He loves you more than anything." Her voice is soft. "He wouldn't let you go alone. I bet he just got held up."

"You're right." I sniff again. "And he promised."

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The rest of the car ride, I am silent as Jared drives, staring straight ahead at the road. We hide the van in the small grotto, covering it with a tarp so it will be hidden, and walk the rest of the way. The sun is hot, and though we have water, the three of us are soon exhausted and dehydrated. My tongue is dry, and the small backpack suddenly feels a hundred times heavier. I don't say anything, though, and keep pushing on through the sand, it now being dusk.

It seems the caves are abandoned when we arrive there, yet Jeb still meets us at the mouth of the hidden entrance. He sees immediately that something is wrong, that Ian is not present in the group, and I am mute as Jared and Mel give him a tired story of the events that played out this morning.

"Kid's tough." He rubs a worn hand on my shoulder. "Got some fight in that body, Wanda. He'll be here."

"He said he'd meet us here." I slip my hand into my pocket to feel the magazine page, still there, still real.

"When I was layin' low in the city at times," Jeb leads us through the dank, dimly lit cave. "I had to hide out even weeks at a time."

Weeks waiting for Ian. My chest burns, and I long for his arms around me, and I feel terrible for pushing him away the entire trip, wishing he hadn't been there.

"Where is everybody?" Jared notices that the main cavern is empty, along with the rest of the caverns we navigate.

"Paige." Jeb explains. "She went into labor, just after you left."

I have never been able to witness a human birth, but I have been told the process is one of the most painful experiences a human woman could ever experience. Melanie sometimes talks about bringing her own child into the world, but then again, it is _this_ world she would be introducing him or her into. Paige's pregnancy was an accident, but her and her husband, Andy, embraced the idea with open arms. Doc has been taking care of her, and as far as we know, she has carried a healthy child. I think to myself, though, how long must a human labor to bring forth a child? It has been at least 20 hours since we left for the city.

"Is she alright?" Melanie asks with a worried tone.

"She's close." Jeb sounds awkward talking about this. "She's been asking for you, Wanda."

"Me?" I speak for the first time, finding myself stroking the magazine page, or my possession closest to Ian, my fingers inside my pocket.

"She's in a – erm – lot of pain. And you're always so soothing, maybe she figured…"

I take a deep breath, ignoring the swell of my heart at every thought of Ian. Jeb, Jared, and Mel, they all said he would return to me. There is no way that he won't come back to me.

"I'd like to see her." I nod to him, and he changes direction towards Doc's sort of infirmary. "Jared, Melanie, you'll need to give the medicine to Maggie. Do you think you can figure it out?" I slip the brown backpack from my hunched shoulders and give it to my sister.

"Yes." Melanie slips on the backpack through the straps. "Thank you, Wanda. And don't worry."

I turn away and follow Jeb toward Doc's place. Through the hallway leading there, we find more people: Brandt, sitting against the wall with Lily resting against his chest, Jamie, now 15, who jumps up to take my hands, a few others scattered about. There is a pained shriek from the room.

"Wanda!" Jamie leaps up, wrapping his arms around me. "You're alright."

"I always promise I'll come back, Jamie." I hug him gently, kissing his hair with affection.

_Jamie_. The voice says again, and my stomach twists. I don't show my concern, though.

"How's Paige?" I question, pulling away to meet his eyes in the dim light. Jamie's face reddens with his awkward boyishness, and I figure he is just as awkward around these situations as I am.

"Doc says things are going alright, but it sure doesn't sound like it." He comments, his cheeks pink. His words are answered by a pained moan that hurts me to hear Paige make. "She wants you, Wanda."

"So I hear." I slip past him, entering the delivery room. Paige is propped up on a cot with at least half a dozen pillows, gripping her round, extremely non-convex stomach while Andy kneels beside her, his forehead taught with worry. A sheet is draped over Paige's lower half as she labors, and I am familiar enough with human birth to understand how the child will come into the world.

"Wanda." Paige pants, gasping for breath. "Oh, Wanda, you're here. Oh- Ahhh-haa!"

"Breathe, Paige." Andy reminds her, rubbing the back of her neck worriedly. "Almost there, you've got this."

"Paige, you need to push now." Doc checks beneath the sheet, and positions her legs so they are held back. "Baby's coming fast, are you ready?"

Paige lets out the loudest shriek that echoes through the caves as she brings her and Andy's child into the world, gripping her inner thighs. Finally, the tiniest human I've ever seen, a small female child covered in milky bodily fluids from inside her mother, slides out, eyes closed, still.

"Towel." Doc reaches for a towel from Trudy who is standing by. He wraps the tiny infant in it, rubbing over her body that is pale. I cringe at the sound as he cuts through the umbilical cord. Finally, a small cry rings through the caves, the offering of life.

I leave Paige and Andy to be alone with their new daughter, and even though Paige asks me to stay, I let her get her rest. Child birth has obviously taken a lot out of her, and that scares me to even think of carrying a child, like she did.

My legs take me to our room, Ian's and mine. It is untouched from that morning that was just yesterday when I woke up on my own. It seems like a million years ago, swimming in the bathing room, Ian's gentle love-making, being careful with my body for one of our first times together. I remember the feeling, the touch of his body, and sit down on the mattress and feel my body begin to shake. He must return, he promised. Like Melanie said, Ian would never break a promise to me. Ian would to anything for me, and I would too, for him. Paige's birth has managed to distract me from this fact for the remainder of the night, but the affect is beginning to wear off.

I don't move from this spot and wait for Ian.


	5. Souled

**Hiya, you guys! I see a few more people have taken a liking to this story, so thank you, my lovely viewers! I truly appreciate you! Now on to chapter five! Please enjoy, we'll take a little break from Wanda, now. Tell me what you think, I would really like that!**

**Rainbow**

Five: Souled

I am conscious before I open my eyes, I can tell this much. It is like I am looking into blackness, the backs of my eyelids, I realize, adjusting to this human body. Having been in only one being before, the creatures of the Fire Planet, it is odd to feel so many limbs: 2 limbs called arms, and two called legs. So many sprouts coming from the main chunk of body, including the head that houses the brain that allows me to think these thoughts.

"Give him a while." I hear a voice, my brain processing the language spoken on Earth. "We usually don't insert Souls into bodies like these. He is from the Fire Planet, he will be strong enough."

Strong enough for what, I wonder. I get used to the nerve endings stretching to my fingertips and toes, and I wiggle my fingers just the tiniest bit.

"He will." I hear a deep voice, deeper than the first. "This will not be a simple task."

As she is speaking, I am plunged into a sort of vision. My mind conjures up the word _"memory," _and I experience the last thing my host remembered.

_Sterile, white walls, a woman typing at her desk. The feeling of the soft, black chair as he leans back, trying to draw in a deep breath. He feels like all eyes are on him, that he is different, but no one is looking at him at all or even paying any attention. He is waiting for someone; his hands laced together, breath quickened. _

_ Wanda. My mind whispers that name, nothing of significance to me._

_ There is a soft swish of the glass doors as they open, two people, a man and a woman, dressed all in white enter, different than the other people around us. They have a sharpness to the way they carry themselves, an arrogance in their host's bodies, a cruel glimmer in their almost-glowing, silver eyes._

_ "Ah, Seekers." The woman behind the front desk looks up from her computer records, her fast fingers ceasing their typing. "May I help you?"_

_ "Just a routine check, Nurse." And he lowers his voice, though I can just make out what he is saying. "There have been a few disturbances, and they have been traced most recently to this area."_

_ "Oh my." She innocent soul says from behind the counter. His heart leaps in his chest, I feel it in my own._

_ "Nothing to be worried about." The female Seeker clears her throat, her eyes bouncing over to him, and he tries to slouch lower into his chair. She doesn't move her gaze. "Just a routine check."_

_ The male adjusts his sunglasses, slipping even lower, like he is trying to slip through the chair and disappear from the Seekers._

_ "Excuse me, sir." The male seeker calls attention to him just as he is getting up, and he throws something under the chair he is sitting at. A black pen goes rolling across the floor, and he doesn't stop to pick it up. _

_ "Excuse me, sir." He steps past them using long strides, his dirt-encrusted boots leaving bits of soil on the polished floor. His voice is not like the other souls, it is worried and wavering. _

_ The Seeker grabs his arm harshly enough to catch him off guard, and his dark-tinted glasses go skidding across the floor. He squints his eyes closed, but not before they see his unmistakably human-blue eyes. He rushes out the door, his body turning around the corner in one swift jerk. The Seeker crushes one lens of the glasses under his foot._

_ The man's body is running now, as fast as he can, which is fairly fast with his strong body. His arms pump at his sides as he sprints faster and faster, like a torpedo, whipping around the corner of a building. Pedestrians on the sidewalk pause to stare, but then politely go on their way. _

_ "This way!" His ears hear the shouts of the Seekers, and he doesn't even pause to catch his breath, just sprints away, farther and farther._

_ He keeps on running, running, running, wet with sweat, and fighting back tears. There is a drive in him that keeps him going, keeps him pushing forward, but whatever that force is, it is unclear._

_ His fear fills his chest as he hears other voices yelling his coordinates out. He looks for a place to hide, but there isn't one. His lips form words, but the memory is not like I am seeing it in his version, like I am an outside bystander. There is a crack and a gunshot, another word that forms in my head. Why does my host understand so much about this word?! To my understanding, this is an older host, but I believed that the previous soul had skipped out on him!_

_ Unbelievable pain overwhelms my brain, a seeping of terrible, horrible pain throughout my body as the memory ends with blood and pain. My body dies, but lives on. _My_ body now._

"Dancing Flame?" The kind, gentle voice I remember hearing before speaks gently. "Can you hear us?"

"What was that?" I open my eyes, my voice that I hear for the first time quivering. I realize I have been letting out shouts throughout the entire memory. "Please tell me."

"Dancing Flame, this is Healer Showers, and I am Healer Thorn. Welcome to Earth." I open my new eyes to two humans dressed in white, yes this color is white. Their eyes glow iridescent blue. "You just experienced this host's last memory."

"He was terminated." I come to terms with it.

"Yes." Healer Thorn explains. "Your host was human only days ago. We kept him alive on your account. I suppose we have some explaining to do." She lets out a gentle chuckle.

"Yes." I reply, noticing the vibrations of my vocal chords. These human bodies just keep getting stranger and stranger.

"As you know." Healer Thorn continues, Healer Showers trailing her silently. "Many planets have already been populated with our souls: The Fire Planet, where you hail, for example. All of the planets have been successfully souled, and the species have given up in peace to our methods. All but Earth, that is."

My heart leaps, an unknown phenomena, and I gasp at the feeling of fright.

"Oh, no, Dancing Flame." Healer Showers speaks for the first time, his voice gentler and more understanding. "It isn't how you are thinking. All of Earth is peaceful. Every human body now is owned by us souls. But there are small pockets of resistance, hidden too well to be easily found."

"And this body was part of one of these – resistances?" I ask, getting used to my voice. On my last planet, the Fire Planet, languages were not spoken like this.

"It was." Healer Thorn nods. "He was found at a clinic, possibly waiting for something. We don't know."

"And you want me to find out?" I attempt to fill in the blanks.

"I don't mean to alarm you, Dancing Flame." She starts. "But some of us, _souls_, have begun to join the resistance. We think that this body is the key to successfully ending the human population, and replacing it with souls. We believe he is a connection to the soul called Wanderer."

"Wanderer." I repeat.

"Yes, Wanderer. One of the first souls to resist. We believe she is deeply connected to your new body. They were mates. Do you recognize the name Ian?"

"No."

"You will." The Healer tells me. "You will, Dancing Flame."

"You need me to find Wanderer?" I ask, beginning to sit up. Healer Showers helps me sit, getting used to this form.

"And the other humans." She says. "And the Seekers will be working with you. Our job is only to make sure you are safely inserted."

"I will do anything to help this planet be at peace." I swing my long legs over the side of the bed, testing my body. "Take me to the Seekers."

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"Look at the pictures again, Dancing Flame." The Seeker assigned to my case, Claudette, slides the folder over to me once again, and I look up through my fingers at the photograph. It is a young woman, eyes blue and glowing like mine, with shiny, dark hair about to her shoulders. Her build is strong, long legs, and her eyes are a muddy hazel sort of color. She is beautiful, on human standards, and I have seen the pictures a hundred times already.

"It's Wanderer." I mutter, running my fingers through my hair with frustration, something I have picked up from this body in the last few days I have been occupying it.

"Do you recognize her?" Claudette's voice rises with hope, and I let out an exasperated sigh I wasn't aware I was holding in.

"Of course. You've shown me the pictures two dozen times."

She sets the pictures down, stacking them neatly on top of each other. "You haven't gotten any memories from your host?" Her heavy, dark eyebrows pull at the brown skin of her forehead. "Usually you do by this time."

I shrug, my shoulders hunched.

"Dancing Flame." Her voice echoes throughout the empty room. "Maybe you should go home. Get some rest, it would do you good. The first transfer into a human body is always exhausting."

I don't reply, just rise from the table and begin to leave.

"If you receive any memories, you know how to contact me." The Seeker relays, but I keep right on going out the door.

My house is close to this place, a nice, one-bedroom building Healer Thorn helped me find. Seeker Claudette suggested I be close, in case there was any important information I wanted to relay to her, which there hasn't been so far. I walk with my head down, feeling distressed at the amount of pressure being rested on my shoulders.

I open the door to the small, yellow bungalow, relishing in the cool air conditioning. Arizona is so hot, and though this body is used to it, I have been thinking of moving somewhere cooler. The sun is beginning to go down by the time I have arrived, and the ache in the back of my head causes my body to yearn for rest. I peel my gray t-shirt off from my chest, reveling at my strange shape in the mirror placed in my bedroom.

Like the pictures of Wanderer, my body is what in the human world would be considered "attractive." My face is chiseled, with a straight, aquiline nose, and of course, the blue eyes. My hair is a mess of ebony locks, beautiful, but uncut. I think about taking a pair of scissors to it later, one side is more even than the other. On this world, they would call this Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.

This body, my body, is also tall, at least 6 feet, with muscled shoulders from heavy lifting, probably, and a muscular abdomen for most likely the same reason. With my looking like this, it should be no problem to locate a mate. Not that I have had any desire for one so far.

I fall into bed, only in my underwear, and crawl under the sheets. They are cool against my warm body, and with exhaustion, I fall into a deep sleep.

_"Ian, she wouldn't stop." Melanie speaks, rubbing a hand on my back gently. I shrug away with harshness in my movement, sniffing loudly. "There was nothing I could do to stop her, or I would have."_

_ "Go away." I fight the tears, the tears for my Wanderer, welling up in my chest, burning in my heart. That kiss we shared, the darkness, the deepness in that one kiss that we shared the touch of her hand on my chest as she slowly traced it up to cup my cheek. Had that all been a – goodbye?_

_ No! This is not goodbye! _

_ "Ian." Jared probes gently, leaning in. Great, even he knew before they went ahead and did the job. The job of ripping my poor Wanda from the body she was in, Melanie, just shoving her little body (how could I of ever thought of her as a _worm_!) into a tiny silver capsule._

_ "You." I stab a finger angrily at him. "You knew about this?"_

_ Jared sighs. "Yes. Wanda told me before she went to do it."_

_ "And you didn't stop her." I almost spit my venomous words at him, disgusted. "You know she loves you. You know she loves _me_."_

_ "She wanted to die." Melanie whispers softly. "My sister wanted to die and be buried with Wes and Walter. Doc couldn't do it."_

_ "So you'll just send her off into space?" I fight back the tears; I have never in my life wanted to cry as badly as I do now for my love. "You sick monsters, you'll just send her off into space to the pretty Flower Planet, or the bull shit Dolphin Planet, and she'll live her life miserable! Can't you tell she loves you two?!" Yelling, I force the words out, gasping now. Oh, Wanda! _Wanda!

_ "We'll figure out the details." Jared says, like this statement is meant to reassure me or something. _

_ "Give her to me." I hiss, holding out my hands for the silver capsule Wanda called a cryotank. The blue light is on at the end of the oval-shaped hibernation dome, announcing the existence of my still-alive Wanderer._

_ "She's fragile." Melanie says with caution, and I know better than anyone that she will make sure nothing happens to Wanda. _

_ "Do you really think that I would hurt her?" I grit my teeth and say each individual word like a sentence. _

_ "Ian-"_

_ "Give me my Wanderer." I plead now, and she gently places the cryotank in my arms. Even the outside is cold to the touch, like chilled metal, but otherwise, the surface is smooth, unblemished. _

_ "Oh." I press my cheek to the edge of the tank, closing my eyes. The tears are still a very apparent threat._

_ "Ian?" Doc's deep voice behind me is rather startling, but I don't let go of the silver tank. "You can hold her, if you'd like."_

_ "I am holding her." I hold the case housing Wanda to my chest, knowing that no one else will touch her. In any form, I love her._

_ "No, like this." He reaches for the tank, but I pull away. "For God's sake, O'Shea, I won't hurt her." _

_ Hesitantly, I hand over Wanda, but keep a sharp eye. Doc never crossed me as a cruel man, but in this world, God only knows._

_ Doc presses the button on the smooth side, and a layer of shiny metal begins to slide over half of the tank, exposing the glowing matter of the soul inside. Wanda. She looks so small in the little casing, just a fiber of bright, bluish-white tentacles that move like they are part of the air. I know she doesn't have eyes to see me, or ears to hear me, but I wish she could see how taken aback I am at her beauty._

_ "Oh…" I breathe in, beholding the small creature, or soul, as Doc coaxes the frightened thing into his palm, the glow spreading over his fingers as it disperses. _

_ "They're beautiful creatures." Doc muses along with me. "When they're living of course."_

_ "C-can I-?" I am speechless at the beauty of the creature, it's spindles waving in the still air._

_ "Of course." Doc touches the tips of his fingers to mine, and I cup my palms as he gently transfers the soul to me. It – _she _– even seems to recognize me, as she slips over my skin. The four of us, Me, Doc, Melanie, and Jared watch as the phenomenon takes place._

_ "Wanda." I whisper to the helpless soul. "Oh, Wanda. So – so – _beautiful_." This time I truly let the tears fall, knowing I will remember this moment for the rest of my life, however long that may be. Holding beautiful Wanda in my hands, human or not, I still felt a love for her, even in this form, that had never had overtaken my body until now. She is beautiful. She is my Wanda. She is going to be alright._

_ A tear drips down my cheek. _

I wake with a jolt, the movement spasming through my entire body. I am shaking, wet with sweat.

I push my hair out of my eyes, realizing I have my own droplets coming from my eyes, but instead of feeling such extreme compassion and happiness, like Ian's memory, I feel sorrow, a weighty clenching on my heart.

Reveling in this first-received memory, I rise out of bed in the dark and turn on the desk lamp. My first memories of – who? Wanda was there – but she wasn't. Ian called her Melanie. And there was Jared, yes, I know Jared. A main focus of Wanda's, I have been told.

I find a piece of paper and a pen and sit down, light shining over my blank paper. I do not know what to even write after this experience. I simply write down the word "_Melanie_."

_No_. A weak voice in the back of my head whispers, and I jump, the pen skittering over the desk and onto the floor. Wiping the last of my tears, I lean down to pick it up, starting again, sorting through the memory this body has finally allowed me to experience.

"_Soul_." I write down another word, and the words just keep coming, the pen eager to eat up more paper. "_Death Wish." "Wanderer." "Sacrifice." "Heart ache." "Despair." "Love."_

They all flow together, painting the picture. Finally, I reach down after reading over the already existing words once again.

"_New Bo-"_

_ NO! _There is a shout in the back of my head, and I feel a wall slam up in my mind, keeping me from seeing anymore. This is not me. Me, Dancing Flame, is not responsible for this.

Ian O'Shea is still in here. Ian is alive in this body, and he is keeping me from seeing his memories. Protecting the other humans. Protecting Wanda.

Angrily, realizing with a pang in my chest, that this will not be easy, I scribble the two words down again.

_New Body. _

Ian O'Shea moans in the back of my head.

**Okay, so the end of the fifth chapter! What did you think? Are you sympathetic towards Dancing Flame, did you like the memory Ian thought of? Any suggestions? Just type right in the comment box, or PM, to let me go. Thanks, and you guys are the bees knees!**

**Rainbow**


	6. Memory

**Sorry there hasn't been an update in a while, I will try to do better on it! PLeeeeease tell me what ya think on this story, and it is much appreciated! New updates soon! Thanks peeps, *muahhh!***

Six: Memory

Dawn breaks on my 56th day as a human. I am awake already, as I usually am, unable to sleep. Or not _allowed_ to, is more like it. It is difficult – being thrust into a sickeningly despairing memory in which I receive all the feelings. So far, Ian has been torturing me; not with fond memories, but of memories of hate and rage.

I bend over to tie my shoes, pulling the dark brown laces tight. A bead of sweat drips across my forehead, sliding over my tanned skin to rest at the crevice of my nose. It is not that it is hot, which it is, but I can feel his presence, creeping like a spreading fog in the back of my mind.

_Had enough? _His voice, or rather _my_ voice echoes almost tauntingly in the back of my head. The back of my neck burns with anger. I will not give up. I am from the Fire Planet, for crying out loud.

**Never.** I spit back at him in my head. These past two months, he hasn't been much of a talker, but he is always there in the back of my brain, the nagging presence that simply will not disperse. **Why can't you go away? You could be at peace if you would hand over your body.**

Ian is silent for a long time, and I am still bent over, though both of my shoes are tied. Finally, it is like he is gritting his teeth without a body in the way he speaks. _Would you give up your body without a fight?_

**Yes. **I answer smugly. **If it was for the good of the population. **

_That's a lie. _He piffs and disappears into the back of my head again, only floating on the edges of consciousness. I wonder if it takes energy to even make himself know. I hope it does. Let him work for it.

I sit up with a painful sigh, pushing my hair up through my long fingers. My body was not allowed a long enough sleep last night, and it shows.

I leave my house, wandering aimlessly into town. It is only six in the morning, but a number of small shops are open already, and I chose a grocery store on a whim. Once inside, I stand in the frozen foods section, trying to decide what to get. My hands that seem like they are not my own pick a carton of ice cream without even reading the label.

"Will that be all, sir?" The checker asks as he scans my item and bags it. There is no need for pay in this world, or in any world the souls have helped.

"Yes." I take the bag and thank him before I walk home. At my small kitchen table, only made for two, I find a spoon and open the carton. When I take the first mouthful, I bask in the sweetness of the flavor, mint chocolate chip. Hold on a second… this was Ian's favorite food. I see his hands holding a carton of it in a memory, sitting crumpled up in the back of a van. What is he doing?

_Raid. _The word comes to my mind. A word otherwise unneeded in this world.

"Stop giving me your stupid memories." I speak out loud for the first time while being alone. Ian seems almost smug. He has done nothing but show me useless memories since the night he showed me Wanderer's soul. The memory of holding her before she was reinserted into a different host. His mind blocking is strong, and he so often throws up a wall when I search through his brain.

"Dancing Flame?" I hear a familiar voice at the door, and I let out a heavy sigh. "Are you alright?"

"Come in, Claudette." I wave my hand at the front door. Not like she wouldn't invite herself in anyway.

_Go away. _Ian grumbles, throwing up some extra, highly unneeded blocks.

"Is everything alright?" She takes the seat across from me without asking. She has a small, silver device in her hand, and she touches the screen with her manicured, clear-polished nail. "Your brain wave frequencies are highly active. Are you getting anything else, Dancing Flame?"

The device she holds in her hand is actually a monitor for a small chip behind my ear, a beacon for brain wave activity and anything else that goes on in my body. It is designed especially for me and does just about everything but read my mind entirely. Every time something was in flux, Claudette is here at my door, wanting to take my blood pressure and drill me on the human resistance.

"Nothing, unless you're concerned in anything like favorite foods." I motion the ice cream sitting to melt on my table.

"Unless it pertains to any important memories." She looks frustrated. Her thin, high-arching eyebrows are pulled into an expression of exhaustion. "Have you gotten anything on the Wanderer?"

**Not the, **_**she**_**. **I think to myself, correcting her.

"Just – a lot of blonde hair." I sigh, remembering the one memory Ian had accidentally let slip. The smell of peaches and cream engulfed in one scent, golden, halo-like hair around her hidden face. Ian's nose in her hair.

_Bastard_. Ian whispers, and I jump at his sudden appearance.

"Something bothering you, Dancing Flame?" The Seeker places her hand on top of mine, and by reflex, I pull away suddenly. "Did you just receive something?"

"Yes." Her eyes light up when I reply, but I get up and slam my chair into the table. "An urge to take a nap."

"Oh, of course." She stands up, too, smoothing her small hands over her tight pencil skirt. "May I stop by later, then? Would that be alright?"

**No. **"Yes." I say with a sigh. "I'm just suddenly very tired. I'm sorry, Seeker."

"It isn't a problem, Dancing Flame." She is already at the door, monitoring the beacon planted behind my ear on her shiny, silver device. "Have a nice rest."

I sink into bed and curl up tightly on top of the covers. For once, Ian is calm in the back of my mind, sort of drifting and daydreaming, and I fall into a light sleep.

_ It is warm in the caverns, warmer that I would like. The breezes have gone, and so have the rains to keep us cool, and we are left to try and sleep in this hot mess. Not to mention it is completely pitch dark._

_ Rolling over, so not to disturb my sleeping partner, I sit on the edge of my twin mattress (we have two shoved together) and lift my shirt up over my head. It sticks to my chest with sweat, and I toss it aside onto the stone floor. I'm left in a beat-up pair of blue boxers, not that I can see._

_ "Ian?" A coo sounds from the other side of the bed, and the sheets rustle. A hand touches my bare shoulder in the dark, but I don't flinch, I sink into her touch instead. _

_ "Hmm?" I reply, and take her hand as it still rests softly on my shoulder. Her touch sends my body into a sort of bliss, like I am a piece of milk chocolate and she is the hot sun. _

_ "Too hot to sleep." She yawns with a content gasp and presses her lips to my shoulder. A heat wave even stronger than the summer air overwhelms my senses._

_ "I bet you could undress like I can." I tease her, finding a strand of her hair in the dark to stroke and tuck behind her ear._

_ "You underestimate me." Her sleepy, seductive voice whispers softly. "I already have."_

_ I gulp down what saliva I have in my dry mouth, and my hand trails from her cheek to her shoulder. Even yet, the tips of my fingers find her neck, barely damp with perspiration, and continue down her smooth chest, over her breast. She wasn't lying, of course, Wanda can't lie, but her shirt is lying somewhere in our cave room. My hand keeps its way to her waist and slide around to the small of her back. _

_ "It is very hot, isn't it?" She leans in to press her warm lips to the divot behind my ear. "Will you lie on the floor with me?"_

_ I scoop her up off of the "bed," and lie down flat on my back on the cold, stone ground. It feels surprisingly good and cool against my skin, and in a moment I am shivering. Wanda curls up against my side like a bird under its mother's wing, and I nuzzle her neck. _

_ "Is my body getting stronger?" She whispers in the dark with concern as she presses her lips to my shoulder._

_ "Of course. I've never seen you turn down work." I chuckle softly to myself, a deep rumble in my throat. _

_ "I mean…" she trails off, a sigh racking her small body. The mold of her body is pressed to the side of mine, but I've already memorized every inch of her body, how she looks in beauty. _

_ "Tell me." I tilt her chin up, stroking her cheekbone with the ball of my large thumb. _

_ "Like Mel was." Wanda sounds almost ashamed, and she hides her face into my bare side like I've suddenly acquired night vision. Even so, I can tell her pale face is blushed in scarlet._

_ "Oh, Geez, Wanda." I almost laugh. "What are you talking about?"_

_ "It's just –" she struggles for words, but her concern is very real. "You loved Melanie's body. She is so strong, able. She could keep up with you, run as far as you, reach a _shelf_ for the sake of this body. I want Pet to be able to do things."_

_ "Wanda, you can do things." I reassure her with a press of my lips to her smooth forehead. _

_ "Not like I used to." She sniffles, and I realize she is crying. "Oh, honey, no." I wipe the tear in the dark like I sense where it falls on her cheek._

_ "I don't care what you used to be able to do." I sit up and lean against the stone wall of the room, pulling her into my lap. "I don't love Mel that way, it was always you. If you had to live your life as a tiny soul without a body, I would sleep next to your cryotank each night and take you out once a day to tell you how much I love you." _

_ "I love you." She breathes against my lips and wraps her legs around my waist, pulling her body towards mine. Our lips connect, hot against each other, and she links her child-like fingers around my neck. Wanda's back touches the wall and I push gently on her shoulders, and while still kissing her, I position each of my hands on either side of her head. Capturing her bottom lip between both of mine, I suck on it gently like a lifesaver, pulling away with a soft tug._

_ "Well, there's no way I can sleep now." Her soft voice whispers against my mouth, and I yearn for her again. _

_ "I'll hold you until the sun comes up." As my lips press to her neck to her shoulder, reaching her chest. "I won't let you go, Wanda. My Wanda. My Wanderer."_

_ "My Ian." She closes her eyes and leans back, giving herself over to me._

I open my eyes, gasping and sobbing when the dream ends. Or was it a dream? No, it is one of Ian's last memories of Wanda. No face, but some much, _too_ much, to handle.

I throw my legs over the side of the bed, gasping and struggling to get my breath. Stumbling to the small bathroom, I lean over the sink and vomit violently, gripping the edge of the basin. The thoughts keep repeating in my head.

Too much.

_Too _much.

_Serves you right_. Ian gasps at the back of my head, fiery with the memory himself. It is like she was touching him – _me_ – that warm feeling still spread over my entire body.

"Are you happy?!" I yell, punching at the wall. My fist comes away throbbing and covered in dusty plaster. "I've fallen in love with her, you idiot! I've fallen in love with her, _OH_." I bend over to vomit in both physical and emotional pain once more.

Ian sinks into the back of my head, his presence hardly there anymore. He had been shocked of the outcome, the feelings I bear for Wanderer. The faceless woman I have felt these emotions for so deeply. These are not just inherited quirks from my host, they are my own, and I love a woman I have never even laid eyes on.

After washing my mouth out with mouth wash and profusely scrubbing my teeth, I stumble into the bedroom I've lived in, but hasn't truly been my home. In the kitchen, the ice cream I bought what seems to be an eternity ago is melted completely over the table, dripping onto the chair. This reminds me of Claudette, the Seeker, who will be returning soon.

_Go. Out the door._ Ian is suddenly frantic in the back of my mind. I reach for my shoes and pull them on.

_Go. Faster, Dancing Flame._

The first time he has even spoken my name. I open the door, lost to where to go next.

_Find a car. Get away. You need to go _now. _Now, before the Seeker returns!_

His yelling voice in the back of my brain tells me what to do, and I search for a vehicle. I never needed one, at least not this far into my life as a human, because I've always walked everywhere.

_Hot wire…_ Ian talks to himself, mumbling words I don't know the meaning of.

**Let me.** I raise my hand to a passerby stopped at a traffic light. "Excuse me, ma'am. I'm looking for a good reliable vehicle. We're – I'm going to visit my sister."

"Oh, of course, friend." The woman with glowing eyes like mine nods kindly. "My father owns a car dealership. I can call him to bring me another car, so feel free to take mine." She opens the door and traffic politely weaves around her.

"Are you sure it isn't a problem?" I try to keep my grin down.

"Not a problem at all, sir. It's a nice model, full tank of gas."

"Thank you." I whisper with my dry voice and slide into the driver's seat. It is adjusted for the short woman, and I adjust it before I drive away.

**That was easy. **Ian sighs with relief in the back of my mind.

_You're in my world now._

**You live your hell, and I'll live mine. **He sinks away after this last comment and instead begins to day dream, visions he chooses not to share with me. I take the road away from the city, a road that will take me toward Wanderer. Wherever that is.

**Please don't forget to review, my lovelies! Oh, and if you are confused, Ian's memories and Ian's "voice" is in italics, and Dancing Flame's thoughts are bolded. Thanks you guyses! **

**Rainbow **


	7. Wandering

**Hey guys! This is sort of a darker chapter, just to warn you, but one of my best chapters so far, I think! Please tell me what you think, I would love reviews! I don't want to beg, but it would be awesome! Thank you, all my lovely readers!**

**Rainbow**

Seven: Wandering

_Out of gas. _Ian's distant voice chimes in my head, and my vision connects with the dashboard. E. What does "E" mean?

_Empty_. Ian mentally rolls his eyes, and I receive some of his memories; pulling a car over on the side of a dusty road, calling on a cell phone for help.

Yes, empty. I need to find a gas station. We haven't been driving for long, maybe a few hours, but already I feel fatigue of a road trip. Out in the Arizona desert on this stretch of straight, flat road is a trap for severe highway hypnosis. I ease my foot off the gas and pull into a rustic-looking _Speedway _station, and parking the car that looks almost too shiny for this vast, orange desert background at a pump.

With a pang in my chest as I wait beside the filling car, I realize I have absolutely _no_ idea where I am going. Never have I been here before, and Ian offers no explanation. Others have told me, souls of course, that when you enter a human host, the memories come naturally, almost as breathing comes in the same way. But Ian blocks off his own memories so strongly, I hardly know anything about him. Besides Wanda. Oh, Wanderer…

_Dancing Flame_. Ian snaps me out of it, and I unplug the nozzle from my vehicle, not noticing how much gasoline I've allowed to seep in. It doesn't matter; Ian will tell me when it is time to get more.

I slip back into the car, of course souls don't pay for anything, and start the engine. Pulling out, I keep my eyes on the road again as we drive for miles, farther and farther away from the city.

_Quiet. Don't make a sound. Not even the sound of your shoes can be heard._

_ I peek around the corner, feeling Kyle's breathing beside me, others behind him yet. A monster is among us, a heartless, pitiless beast with the nerve to call itself a soul. Jared's Melanie taken over by a demon from outerspace. And _alien.

_ Commotion. Words coming out of my mouth. Kyle fighting Jared away. A woman's shouts._

_ "NO!" The body jumps in front of Jared. Protecting. Shielding even, with her small body in front of his large one. She can't keep us away. She has to go. She cannot live among us. _

_ I shove her against a wall, her dirty, sunburnt face grimacing as I do so. She hardly struggles, probably weak, as I wrap my strong hands around her neck, squeezing. Her eyes, the eyes that were once Melanie's, are glazed over with a reflective silver that lose their light as I cut her air supply off. She begins to go limp._

_ Goodbye, whoever you are. Rotten, filthy monster. You do not even deserve a name. Goodbye._

Ian pulls me from the memory with a jolt, and I realize my lead foot is weighted on the gas pedal. Souls do not break speed limits, and I slam on the breaks. The wheels lock, and we go skidding, hardly stopping before finally halting at the edge of the ravine-like ditch on the side of the dusty road. I cough and hack, like the memory is poison, and he has just force-fed me with it. **Ian tried to kill Melanie. **No, **Ian tried to kill **_**Wanda**_**.**

_It isn't that simple. _Ian sounds pained in my brain, writhing almost in a sort of way. I don't want him to hurt. I realize that I am in pain, too, and I hold my hand over my heart, feeling it twisting in shock and agony.

"Why would you show me that." I moan, speaking aloud for the first time in hours, my hand slipping from my chest to my head to hold the throbbing thing up. "You tried to kill her! And you call _me _the monster!"

_You don't know me. _Ian smolders, his voice leeching with finality and authority. How can he control me so?! He is nothing but a voice in the back of my head!

"You were distracting me." I finally come up with the fact, taking a longer look at our surroundings. Desert on all sides, majestic plateaus in place, souring in the blue sky. The sun beats down happily with warmth, and I feel a bead of sweat forming on the back of my neck. I sink to my knees in the red dirt on the side of the road and catch my breath, breathing in the dense humidity.

Ian does not respond, but does not disappear like he usually does. Seemingly, he is trying to free himself from the terrible remembering, too.

_ I was confused._

"Well, I'm confused now." I snap back, pushing my fingers up through my dark hair. It is warm from the radiant sun, but all I can think of is the odd sensation of baking it. "What do I do?"

_Look in the car. _Ian says somewhat patiently as I slip into the seat where I left the car door open. _Water. Stay hydrated. _

I open the main console, rifling through a stack of napkins and the permit for the car. When I find nothing liquid, I dig under the seats in the back, surfacing with a standard water bottle, half full with precious, clear liquid. I uncap it and begin to drink heavily from the neck, gulping.

_Not all of it! _

I pull away and recap it, confused.

_Idiot. _

**What? **I toss the half-empty body between both of my hands, my tongue already dry after swallowing the small amount of water I have.

_You might need it for later. _Ian shows me memories of **real **thirst feels like: swollen tongue, throat dryer than the desert around me, dehydration that fatigues that body. I shiver at the mere fragments of feelings, and set the bottle in the passenger seat.

Once I've started the car, and we are back on the road, I gather my feelings privately, away from Ian. How could he pretend he loves Wanderer so very much, yet try to kill her? My trust, if any I've gathered for Ian, is quickly dwindling.

Silently, as silent as two people in the same body can be, we bump along on the dusty road, my mind on Wanderer. How I've fallen in love with a woman without a face I have seen yet. Possibly, Ian will not let me see her, ever. I cringe at the mere possibility.

_Dancing Flame. _Ian suddenly perks up. _Pull over. We're breaking down._

A heavy rumbling beneath my seat comes to my attention, and I pull the sick car over to the side of the road once again. Frantically, I look to the dashboard for answers. The gages read: E.

"We're out of gas!" I cry, throwing the door open and leaping out, looking for a problem with the nozzle. Nothing is wrong with it; we are broken down in the middle of nowhere. Ian distracted me when getting gas, and I must not have put in as much as I first thought.

_Now would be a good time to have the rest of that water. _Ian says sheepishly. He knows exactly what he's done. He is a sneaky, conniving human, and I feel strong, swelling emotions of mistrust towards him. Why would he lead me out here in the middle of the desert?

**You humans think you're so smart. **Is all I can think to retort, and I uncap the water, letting the rest of it trickle down my throat. It tastes delicious, if water can taste delicious, but a prick in my chest tells me I will be severely missing it later.

I crawl into the backseat and I lie down across the bench seat. The sun rises higher in the sky, beating down, and I begin to sweat through my shirt.

_Dancing Flame._ Ian's voice even seems to pant, though he is locked away in my head. _We can't stay here. We'll die. No one and nowhere for miles. _

**I know. **I lie there for a few more minutes, letting the words soak in. I will have to leave the car, the only thing sheltering me from the sun and the desert. I could also die in here.

Like in a dream, I wrap my shaking, sweaty fingers around the car door handle and pull gently to open it. The sun streams over my body as I step out, and I take a step onto the gravely sand on the curb of the road. Thinking oddly to myself, I wonder if anyone is looking for me. Probably not, us souls don't have "WANTED" posters how Ian remembers, but there is still Claudette. She seemed to be so – persistent, especially in ending the human resistance and using me as the tool to do so. There can be no way for her to let me go, I realize. Even if I was pronounced dead, which is becoming a scarily real possibility, she wouldn't end her quest.

**Follow the road back? **I question in my head so I don't waist saliva talking.

_That is too far. Wanda used to tell me about a checkpoint, out in the desert. Lost or exhausted hikers would go there, and every other day, they sent an officer there to pick up refuges._

**Are you sure? **I look with doubt over the sweeping, flat wasteland of rock and sand. **Do you even know where we are? **

_Relatively. _Replies the voice in my head with a tone that does not insure confidence. _Wanda told me exactly where it was. _

So off into the desert I go, under the blaring sun with no protection on my neck. My skin is a deep tan already, but with no protection, I begin to burn and peel with sunburn. It itches, and I scratch at the dry patches with my stubbly nails, despite Ian's protests. I sweat through my shirt, and my head is burning like fire by midafternoon.

_Take your shirt off. _Ian suggests, showing my pictures of working in a large, golden field. I tie the sweat-soaked tee around my head and continue to stumble along, my boots heavier than concrete blocks. I want to take them off, but I am assured the sand is much hotter with bare feet.

To keep me going, Ian allows me short, meaningless memories of water, coolness, moist dew on grass. He shows me the swimming pool he had as a child, a younger version of my body splashing and playing in 3 and a half feet of water, accompanied by an older boy that looks a lot like him.

**I didn't know you had a brother. **I offer, noticing how very much alike the two of them look, besides the obvious few year age gap.

_Kyle. _Ian tells me, sighing at the name. Though I can feel he has slight lingering anger at this Kyle man, he feels regret and wanting for his brother back.

I go back to focusing on the memories, and Ian lets me into his memories of cool lemonade in a tall glass and a sprinkler from his earlier days as a child, jumping over the spraying toy in swim trunks. He seemed very happy then.

It has been hours. The sun is setting, but that does not mean it becomes cooler. Sounds of the desert fill my ears, and I shake with fear as Ian pushes me on.

_I wish… I had… water…_ I try to form the thought, but I am almost too tired to do even that.

**I know. Keep going, Dancing Flame. Keep **_**trying**_.

I don't even try to form thoughts anymore, and just stumble along in the whipping sand, late into the night. Ian keeps me motivated, but with almost no water in my system, I soon collapse onto my knees.

**Get up. **He growls in my head, but the second time he is begging. **Please, get up. Keep going, Dancing Flame.**

_I can't. _I try to catch my breath from deep in my chest, but it only comes in quick bursts of air as I wheeze. "I… can't…"

**You c**_**an**_**. **He surges, persistent. **Wanda, think of Wanderer.**

I know he is baiting me. I know I can't resist. I know I can't get up.

"I… " I try to say, but sand is in my mouth, everywhere.

**Crawl. **Ian forces me to move my limbs back and forth, crawling along the rough, unforgiving desert floor. **I don't want to die, Dancing Flame.**

_Neither do I, Ian. _

We are both silent as I scrounge my way across the ground, my limbs aching, skin peeling with sunburn, bare chest brushing the sand. Finally, I can make it no longer, and I fall in a heap under a lone, bare tree.

**Ian?**

_It's alright. Take a rest, Dancing Flame._

**No. **I whisper in my head. My thoughts cannot even register above a soft flutter. **There is no pick-up stop for lost souls, is there?**

_No. _He seems sheepish, but not ashamed.

**You lied. **

_Yes. To get to Wanda._

**We didn't get to her. **I sigh gently, losing what may be one of my last breathes.

_You tried, Dancing Flame. You tried. _Ian's voice is sad in my face, yet still genuinely grateful. _Thank you. _

**Thank you for Wanda. **I think back to him, and I know that he understands what I mean. Without realizing until it was too late, he allowed me to feel deep emotions for Wanderer, something I have never had before in my lives.

We are quiet a long time, staring through the spinney branches of the tree to gaze at the stars. I get effortless memories of constellations, and I pick out one of them called "The Big Dipper." Curious how the humans are the only race I have heard of to make pictures in the stars. Every planet sees the glowing balls of gas in a different way, yet these creatures have chosen to seen the flames of destruction as something beautiful.

**Ian? **I use most of my last energy to force the thought through my muddled mind. He stirs in response.

**Will you show her to me? Just once?**

_Seeing it is the end. _He finally lets go. He doesn't open his entire mind. No, I know he wants to keep that to himself when he is gone, to feel he hasn't gone down without a fight. This is one memory; a sweet one that sends my brain into a gentle lull as I go down.

_She is tending to the wheat fields, her small, child-like hands holding a shovel that she can hardly handle. She is small, yes, and she can hardly hold the tool, but I love her for being, well, - _her_._

_ "You're staring at me, Ian." She looks up, her blond curls piled in a heap on top of her head. One particular curl falls from the pins, and caresses her high, pale cheekbone._

_ "It's fun to watch you work." I grin and lean against my own shovel, taunting her. She blows the curl up, rolling her eyes towards the cave ceiling. _

_ "Oh, please." She goes back to working, her neck sheen with sweat. I stride over to her and take the shovel from her small hands, throwing it aside and resting my hands on her waist. My dirty palms leave prints on her light gray tank top, but she doesn't seem to care as she wraps her arms around my neck. _

_ I admire her high cheekbones, and press my lips to each of them as she giggles. She insistently says she hates when she makes that bubbly noise, but I love it. Her turned up, small nose and shell pink lips, small body. I love every part of her, and she loves me. It can't get better than this. _

_ Suddenly, I feel a soft splat on my cheek. She brushes her child-sized thumb over my cheek, wiping the water droplet away, and her silvery eyes focus up on the heavens. The sky begins to cry, raining hard, but not a thunderstorm. Wanda grins, and I swing her around in the unexpected shower coming in through the odd dome over the field. _

_ I press my lips to her beautiful face, covering just about every surface. I save her lips for last, caressing them with mine, her top between both of mine as I deeper the embrace, her face in my hands as I press my body to hers, pulling he closer. _

_ With a gentle lip-smacking noise, I separate from her, the rain hammering down on us now. Not that we care. Still holding her to me tightly, I laugh at the irony of it._

_ "Little cliché!" I chuckle against her wet lips. "Kiss in the rain, huh?"_

_ "I don't care!" She grins, standing on her very tiptoes to hug her arms deeply around my neck. "I feel – human."_

_ I pull her to me again, my hands knotting in her now-wet blonde hair, marveling in her beauty. I can never let this go._

**Thank you, Ian. **I squeak, needing the image of beautiful, lovely Wanderer in my head before I go.

_Goodbye, Dancing Flame. _Is his only response.

**Goodbye, Ian. **I reply gratefully, closing my eyes.

Goodbye, desert. Goodbye, humans. Goodbye, Earth. But most importantly: goodbye, Wanderer. I love you more than anything.

**Ah, so what do you think? Sorry about the sadness, if you find this sad. D: Please tell me what to think, and I need ideas for upcoming chapters, and all suggestions I am open to! Also, a shout out to all of my faithful reviewers: MaverickPaxAPunch, aqualizzard, evi ive. Thank you to the three of you! You are the sort of reviewers that make me what to write more every day! If you haven't reviewed yet, please do so! It would really make my day! Wanda and Ian forever!  
Rainbow**


	8. Lost

**Hello all of my beautiful, wonderful readers! Thank you all for reviewing, to those of you that did, it all means a lot to me! **

**Sorry to leave you on a cliffhanger last chapter, but here is the next chapter! I tried a new perspective this chapter, tell me whatcha think! **

**Also, give me any suggestions! Oh, and I LOVE you guys!**

**Rainbow**

Eight: Lost

"Keep low." Jared says, tightening the pack's strap over his muscular shoulder. We're bent behind a rock-like formation, red and baked in the sun, watching the scene far down below.

"This is as low as I get." I grumble, practically sitting in the sand my squat is so low, rubbing my sore thighs from running. The jeep is parked about two miles from here, and we ran to check out the situation. Now, we are crouched behind this sort of burrow out-look, peeking over the see in the distance the reflecting, silver cars and speck-like people in white suits. A red, flashing light is twirling on top of a white van, but it is too far away for me to see.

"Oh please." Jared rubs a hand on the sensitive part of my lower back, placating me. "Do you think it's humans down there? Seekers caught them?"

"I don't know." I shrug, brushing a stray piece of my dark, shiny hair from my face. Frustrated, I snap a rubber band from around my wrist and tie it back, but a few stray shorter pieces still flutter. "Can I have the binoculars?"

He hands me the special tool, and I hold them to my eyes, focusing with the small dials. Down below, under a few stray trees, I find two Seekers in view, dressed in their traditional all-white attire, their bluish eyes reflecting off of the mid-day Arizona sun. They are talking, a shorter, Asian woman and a man much taller than her with a clean-shaven face.

"Seekers." I mutter, shifting my gaze to the white vehicle. Now that I can get a closer look, it is easy to see that it is an ambulance with its red and blue flashing lights, a few doctors, of "healers" as the souls would call them, around a figure on a stretcher.

"What's wrong, Mel?" Jared nudges my arm, longing to have his own eyes to see.

"Someone's hurt." I don't pull away from my gaze, fiddling with the dial on the seeing device. "Damn, what are all these seekers doing here?" My helping eyes find not only the herds of seekers, but a figure on the stretcher. God, he's sunburnt, whoever it is; I make out an arm blistered with heat, and I remember Wanda and I, when we were one, lost in the desert with our burning, red skin. This person is worse; whoever it is, has fair skin, and it is redder than a tomato.

"Let me see." Jared reaches for the binoculars, but I shy away again.

"Give me a minute." I say, making out the face of the patient. So mangled, sun poisoned, dead-looking. But familiar, _so _familiar. Strong jaw, black hair, straight nose, unbroken like his brother's.

I drop the binoculars and drop on my hands and knees, panting to get ahold of my breath.

"Melanie!" Jared drops next to me and swears under his breath.

"Ian." I sit upright and hold my head in my hands. That face I would recognize anywhere. When Wanda was inside of me – before she was inserted into Pet's body – she had trained these eyes to recognize that face no matter what. I _know _it is him.

"What?" He sits me up against the rock, his hands cupping my chin, palms on my cheekbones. "Mel, come on."

"No!" I exclaim, my nervous fingers pulling pieces of my ratty hair from the low ponytail at the nape of my neck. "Ian's down there! _Our _Ian, damn it, Jared!"

"You're shitting me." He sits back in the sand and picks up a handful of sand, sifting through it with his fingers. "Melanie. Baby, I love you. But Ian… he's gone. He isn't coming back. Mel? Melanie, are you listening to me?" He waves his hand in front of my face, calling me back to reality.

"Look for yourself." I motion to the binoculars on the ground, and he slowly wraps his fingers around the neck strap, holding the lenses to his eyes. I watch as he gazes in fascination through the device, slowly lowering it in surprise as he comes to the same realization I had.

"_Fuck_." He, too, throws down the goggles and leans back against the boulder-like crevice.

"Told you." I say smugly.

"I was sure he was…" Jared trails off, uncomfortable to talk about Ian in this way. The past – what? – 3 months, everyone has been walking on eggshells on the topic. Wanda, my _sister_ is broken. She goes stiff as soon as he is mentioned. Just sitting there. Waiting.

"Well, he's not." I hiss under my breath and push off from the ground, falling into a sprint.

"Aw, _damn_ it, Melanie!" Jared shouts, grabbing my calf and dragging me down.

"Wanda can't live like this!" I cry as he drags me back while I claw at the sand. "She needs him back!"

"Mel, STOP!" He cries, grabbing me by the waist and throwing me on top of him back behind the rock. "Are you suicidal?!"

"We can fight them off." Struggling, I fight for Ian, for Wanda. She would do it to me if she saw Jared down there. Do anything to get him back, which she did. She sacrificed herself for me, nearly giving her life so I could be happy, to have Jared and Jamie. "Jared, that is Ian down there. Wanda will die – she's so sick. I can't stand her sitting there – staring. She doesn't eat, doesn't sleep. Not even Jamie can help her. It's been over 3 months, Jar. We need to get him back."

"Mel." He wraps his arms around me, burying his face in my neck. I close my eyes, wishing all of this was over. "Come on, Mel. What if he was – road kill. What if they were just picking him up off the side of the road, just a blackened crisp left over from the sun."

"Don't." I wince against his chest, my breathing heavy. "He's alive. I know it."

"And what if he's a soul." Replies Jared after a very long moment of silence. "What then, Melanie."

"I don't care what he is." I tug my fingers in the hair at the back of his neck. "Ian could be like me. Fighting to get out. And whatever he was doing out in the desert – he was almost to Wanda. And that's where he's meant to be. We have to get him back, Jared. We have to."

"Okay." He finally agrees, pushing his thumbs on my cheeks, his fingers behind my ears. "Trust me, Melanie. We'll do our best to get him back." His hot lips touch mine for a few seconds. "I promise. For Wanda."

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Numb.

Frozen.

White.

All things I feel. None of them are emotions. Just things. For an extremely long amount of time I am stuck in this state, going nowhere, just drifting.

Slowly, I come back, beginning to once again have feeling in my fingers and in my toes. I can think clear thoughts. Where am I? Is this the end? Where is Ian? Not here.

**Ian, where are you?**

** I need you, Ian.**

** Are we dead?**

No answer. Empty head, no voice in my brain. I get what I always wanted, a body to myself, for Ian to go away. But why am I not happy?

"Dancing Flame." A gentle voice is urging me, calling me back. "Dancing Flame, can you hear me?"

I think I nod, but I don't feel my head moving.

"Try to move your fingertips if you can hear me." The soothing voice comes again, persuading.

This time, I can feel my fingertips moving, wiggling against a soft, smooth surface that feels like fabric. Maybe cotton.

"Good." The voice, I think it is a woman's, praises. "Now, can you slowly open your eyes?"

With a flutter of my eyelids, I do what she says, opening to a dim, yellow light. Like the sun, only dimmed by a thousand. This color is gentle and warm. Inviting, even.

"Welcome back." The woman speaks, moving the light away from my eyes so I am not blinded. "My name is Healer Rebecca."

I mumble unintelligibly, an action I have no control over. A soft, gentle hand strokes over my hair, smoothing it firmly across my forehead.

"Do you know your name?" Healer Rebecca urges.

"Dancing Flame." I mutter, my tongue tied up around my teeth.

"Yes, that's right. Dancing Flame. And do you remember which planet you hail from?"

"Fire Planet." I spit out more words, unable to create full sentences yet. My brain is not working properly, and Ian is still gone.

"Yes." The healer nods, her soft, auburn hair bobbing at her shoulders. "Do you remember what happened to you, Dancing Flame?" Her silvery eyes reflect the light off the tiny sun-like lamp, bouncing onto the white sheets over my body.

"Water." I moan, my mouth too dry to speak. I need it, I realize that now. They _must _give me water.

"No, dear soul. You were wandering around in the desert." She is confused by my begging. If only I had drowned, that would be a better way to go.

"No." I gasp through my dry, shriveling lungs. "Water. I… need… water."

With a gloved hand, Healer Rebecca presses a plastic glass to my lips, and I try to sit up to sit the water.

"Do not sit up." She instructs, taking the water away.

"Why?" I rasp, panting. It is like my entire mouth down to my throat has become the dry, hot desert I had been in what seems like only moments ago. When I lay down beneath those trees, closing my eyes. Hot sand everywhere, in my clothes, my eyes, my shoes.

"Drink, Dancing Flame." She ignores my question and again holds out the water. I sip it greedily until the whole glass is drained, and lie back with my head on the cold, flat surface while the healer sets the cup aside.

"Are you feeling better now?" Asks the healer, and I try to nod. That seems to be enough for her, and she swivels her chair towards me again. "The Seekers found you out in the desert. Your heartbeat was hardly there. You hadn't consumed enough water to sustain, say, a mouse, even. It was a wonder you made it that far. The paramedics sustained you. We've been caring for you for three days."

Three days of nothingness. Drifting and not really even thinking until now. It seems impossible.

"You are very sunburnt." Healer Rebecca explains. "We didn't want to treat you until you were awake, but it is very severe."

From where my head is lying, I can tell that I am burnt to a crisp. Reddened, blistered skin on my arms, and I can feel the burning sensation on my face, which I'm sure is the most damaged.

"It's painful." I manage to say, and bite my tongue at the sudden burn on my skin. That part of me even feels swollen and red.

"Don't worry. I'm going to heal you." She takes out a small aerosol-looking can with a misting cap at the top. "This is called _**COOL**_. It will repair your damaged layers of burnt skin."

I lie back patiently as she removes the sheets from my body, gingerly spraying the invisible liquid over my burnt skin. It hardly stings, but my skin feels cool, like she's just trailed an ice cube over my body.

"Better." I breathe a sigh of relief.

"Good." She smiles. "We've had you on support a while now, just some IVs to keep you comfortable, hydrate you." My eyes find the needle plugged into my arm, tracing it to a clear bag of liquids. Usually souls just have their special medicines, designed to fix any illness right on the spot. Why are they using methods the humans created long ago?

"Mmm." I close my eyes again.

"Stay with my, Dancing Flame."

I open my eyes again, lifting their lids, and my vision swirls around me.

"There's someone here to see you."

**Wanderer**, I think dreamily, finding the visions of her beautiful face in my head. She's so beautiful, my love. Focus on her, and all will be well.

"Dancing Flame." A harsher, demanding voice interrupts my thoughts, and Claudette is suddenly standing over me. Her usual, red lipstick is bright against all of the soothing whites and dank yellows in the room.

"He's only just recovering, Seeker." Healer Rebecca interjects, but her time here is finished.

"That will be all, Healer. " Claudette turns to her and gives her a callous glance. "Thank you for your time."

"You're welcome." The Healer exits the room, giving my one last sideways glance.

"Welcome back." The Seeker sits in the chair that was left by my healer, and leans over me. "Feeling better, Dancing Flame?"

"Very much, so. Thank you." I state, somewhat focused. It is very hard to look at her face with that bright lipstick. Like it doesn't belong here.

"I'm not one to say – 'beat around the bush.'" She begins. "I want to know – why were you out in the desert, Dancing Flame?" Claudette's silvery eyes bore into my head, like somehow she can burn a hole through it just by staring.

"I – I don't know." I try to sit up, but something is holding me there. Cold metal is wrapped around my ankles and my wrists. I am restrained. Why am I restrained?! Struggling, I try to become free from the metal clasps, but Claudette's strong hand pushes me down hard.

"You _do _know." Persists the Seeker. "Tell me, Dancing Flame. Were you searching for Wanderer?" Cold, mean voice. Like a buzzing mosquito in my ear.

Wanda. Me almost dying. Ian dying. Is Ian dead? No, he can't be! The last time I heard his voice, he said goodbye. Is it possible for him to die, and for me to live? Or is it just vice versa? Did I kill Ian?

Yes, I _was_ looking for Wanderer. MY Wanderer. I did not reach her, of course. I will never reach her. She is gone, my beautiful, beautiful love it gone, and I will never hold her in my arms, the sweet, unearthly woman.

"I –" Beginning, I'm not sure what I should say. Is it even worth it to protect Ian anymore now that he is gone? "He lead me out there. I thought it was a nice place to – explore."

I have never lied before, and it sounds so false, even I want to laugh. Any other soul would accept it, but I know a Seeker will not. And Claudette is not amused.

"So, memories – and I say memories, assuming you received some from your host – lead you out here, correct? Close to other sightings of other humans, and near where us seekers have had problems before. And you tell me that you were just going to – _explore_?" Cocking her head, she crosses her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowed into slits. "Does that even sound convincible to _you_?"

"Yes?"

"Is that a question?"

"No?"

She sighs, obviously frustrated. "Do you know where you are, then?"

"A hospital." I state, content to finally know the full answer to one of her questions. "They say I was almost dead." Shivering at the thought, I close my eyes for a moment.

"Nope." Annoyingly, she pops the 'p' on the 'nope.' "You, my friend, are at the Seekers' headquarters, Phoenix Arizona: Psychiatric Ward." Claudette arrogantly states, her small nose in the air.

Some I'm in a mental hospital? That is why they've got me tied down. They think I will hurt myself. Or hurt someone else, or even try to escape.

"For what?" I ask.

"You aren't aware of what you happened to be – "mumbling" – while you were sedated?" She stands up and begins to pace, her annoyingly loud high heels clicking on the hard ground. It is like a horse's hooves on asphalt, thought Claudette is nowhere near a horse.

"Well, no." I have the heavy urge to roll my eyes, and I am shocked; that is something Ian would do, not a soul like me.

"You were having a two-sided conversation with yourself." She produces a pad of yellow paper and begins flipping through it. "Dream talk, almost. But – the other side was so unlike you, Dancing Flame. And I thought to myself – who were you arguing with?"

Ian, oh Ian. Was he truly coming through when I was unconscious? Were we having an unknown conversation while we were "asleep?"

"I talk in my sleep." I mumble, turning away somewhat angrily. Ian, please come back to me! I can't lie, you know I can't!

"Not when you're heavily sedated." She stops walking across the room, staring not at me, but with something I can't see. Not while being pinned down this way, anyway.

"So you think I'm crazy?" I ask while trying to work my wrist from one of the tight cuffs. From where I can see where my arm is exposed, a red welch is rising on the skin of my wrist from trying to get free. "You shove me in this – this _Insane Asylum_?"

Claudette shakes her head, nearly chuckling her bubbly laugh under her breath. "We don't use that word anymore."

"That's what it is." I snap back, acid leeching into my tone.

"Ah." The Seeker laughs. "Are you becoming like Ian, Dancing Flame? Should I call you by that name, now?"

I turn away from her amused tone. This is not fair! Why is she doing this? Does she know that Ian is in my head? _Was _is my head. Oh, Ian, come back to me! Where are you?! "What do you want, Seeker?"

"What do I want?" She is suddenly beside my bed, or really table, kneeling so we are eye-to-eye. Her face is cold and mink-like, her crazy mouth drawn into a devilish smile. "I want to end the human resistance. I want Earth to be at peace. I want _you _to stop hiding things from me."

"I'm not hiding anything, Seeker."

Another insensitive laugh. "Keep on telling yourself that, Dancing Flame. Keep on telling yourself that there is _nothing wrong with you._"

My lip quivers, and I tug aggressively at the restraints. "There isn't wrong with me."

"Tell that to Ian." She hisses right by my ear. And with that, she stands up in one swift motion, striding out of the room.

"Ian." I whisper, my voice wavering as a tear slips over my cheek. "Ian, _please_."

My mind is empty. No Ian. My own thoughts.

My eye catches the yellow papers Seeker Claudette left on the chair, facing my bedside. Realizing that it is not a pad of notebook paper, I read the words at the top of the medical form.

**Scheduled Insertion.**

As I read down the papers, I read my own name over and over. And Ian's. And the Seeker's.

No! _**NO! **_This can't happen! The Seeker cannot have my body! She cannot have Ian's memories! She cannot get to Wanda! My Wanderer! No! No! _**NO!**_ I will protect you, I will keep you safe my love. They will never find you, no, no, no.

"Ian." I sob under my breath, the tears streaming down my face. "You need to come back, please, _please_. Wanda needs you. _I _need you. We're going to die. They're _all _going to die."

No answer. Ian is gone.

**So what did you think? Let me know, the review box is right down there! I thought this chapter was pretty good, and it is setting up to go into the next few chapters. **

**I would like to give out the HUGEST SHOUTOUT EVER to aqualizzard. Thank you darling! You helped me come up with the structure for this plot, and I am very grateful! **

**Also, again to evi ive and MaverickPaxAPunch for once again being my faithful reviewers! **

**Love you guys, and if you have any ideas, please leave it in the review box! Sorry to be leaving you sort of on another cliffie! Love you guys!**

**Oh, and if you enjoy Host Fanfictions, I've been reading a good one called "Take What You Can Carry" by straightoneverland. Enjoy, I sure did!**

**Thanks again!**

**Rainbow**


	9. Friended

**We made it to 50 reviews! I am trying to get to 100, so that is half way there! Woot woot!**

**Sorry it's been so long since the story has been updated! Here ya go, spread the words my peeps! **

**Tell me whatcha think, I think you guys will like this chapter! **

**Thank you to all my lovely reviewers! Any suggestions would be appreciated! I'll get out of your face now, but just don't forget to review!**

Nine: Friended

**Ian.**

** Ian, don't leave me.**

** You can't be gone!**

** Please, come back. I **_**need**_** you.**

Nothing. Ian is gone. Gone out of my head.

_This is what you always wanted, Dancing Flame. _I tell myself. _Body to yourself. Nothing to worry about. You can live your life normally now._

But I can't. Not with these clasps hooked around my ankles and wrists, binding me to some kind of psychotic table. This is wrong. The soul world does not have psychiatric patients; the need for those type of hospitals and healers is long gone. Everyone is at peace. No one's head has their past hosts inside of them!

Maybe I really am crazy. Maybe Ian was never in my head in the first hand. Is it possible for someone like me, a tiny, silvery tentacle creature, to go insane? I am slowly learning that yes, it is. Lying here, strapped to this table, is like what I remember of Ian' memories of Chinese water torture. Being forced to lie on your back, completely still while a droplet of water was squeegeed on your head every few seconds. Insane.

"Are you feeling alright, Dancing Flame?" Claudette opens the steel door to my room. Cell. She has her normal pad of paper and black pen behind her ear, ready to take notes. It has been 2 days that I have been strapped to this table, observed by Claudette and Healer Rebecca, fed bland food by hand.

"Oh, just peachy." I roll my eyes, tired of this. Again, something Ian would say; the sarcasm leaches in my voice just how he would have sounded saying it himself.

"Good." She pretends not to notice, and scribbles something on her special pad. "And have you been eating?"

"No, ma'am."

"Are you hungry?" She crosses her arms in frustration, her feathery eyebrows floating high on her forehead.

"No, ma'am."

Claudette's heals click as she paces closer. Suddenly, I feel her small hand on my chest, trailing like a steady trickle of water down my stomach, lower, LOWER. So low, I'm about to bite her.

"That's too bad." The Seeker pulls her hand away before I can snap at it, putting it behind her back. "I was hoping you were going to have my new body in pristine working order before I entered it."

Snarling, I pull at the restraints binding me to the cold, hard table. Raw, open wounds press into my ankles and wrists, and a trickle of blood runs down to drip onto the table where I've opened another gash that recently closed.

"Now, now, Dancing Flame." She sits down in her usual chair, spinning around once to cross her small, thin legs that are cloaked in skin-color pantyhose. "Or should I say, Ian?"

I don't speak to her, just turn my sore, sallow cheek into the metal table, trying with my knee to hike up the white sheet over my groin. It is dangerously slipping to expose my bare body, and Claudette's earlier graze by hand… it makes me nervous.

"The cold shoulder does not work on me, darling." She rests her dagger-like elbows on her knees, leaning forward. "Soon, your body will be mine. And it all will be ended. Won't it be nice to be – free?"

"I'm not bound to anything." Spitting almost, I snap back, wishing terribly I could only just _sit up._ My legs are numb, and any pain I was to experience would be unfelt.

"But you are." Whispers her shrill voice in almost a coo, how a mother would shush her fussing child. Her tone sends tremors over my body, goosebumps arising on my flesh. "Don't you want to be free, Dancing Flame? Don't you want to have a body to yourself?"

I don't answer for a very long time, thinking about her offer. What would it be like to have another host after I have come so used to Ian's. If there was no one in my head, and I was free to go about my daily life, possibly find a mate, have children. Never think about Ian again, think about Wanda. Oh, Wanderer, how you torture me so.

No! I will _never _forget Ian and Wanda, no matter what. That is something that I am certain.

"Not talking, hmm?" The Seeker stands at the doorway, I can see that out of my eye while I lie completely flat on the table.

I shake my head as much as I can in this position.

"Goodbye, Dancing Flame." She chuckles, closing the door. I have a feeling that I won't be seeing her again. Not for a long time.

Xxx

Xxx

"Hold still, please." The Healer tells me as he unscrews the shackle around my wrist, careful of the wounds risen around the sensitive skin. As soon as my hands and ankles are free, I am helped to sit up on my bed, really just a table, and I rub the wounds with my fingers, feeling the sting of the aggressive pain rip up my body. The healer looks at me with sympathy, but doesn't offer me **NO PAIN** or anything of the sort. Two handlers take each of my arms and begin to lead me down the narrow hallway. The white walls and bare walkway is not any more inviting that my cell, but anything is better than to be strapped the table anymore.

The handlers and healer help me around a corner, still gripping tightly to me like I might try to run or something. Who would be so foolish? No one would be able to find their way through this labyrinth of twisting hallways, all looking exactly the same, anyway.

"You'll be waiting in here." The healer says gently, and the handlers put me in a gray, cushioned chair in what looks like a sort of waiting room. We are alone, and the handlers back out of the room. "For the other healers that will be preforming the insertion. Don't worry, Dancing Flame. We'll find you a nice body."

That isn't what I was worried about. "I want this one." I protest, bringing my knees to my chest, and curling into a ball.

"I know you do." He sighs, like he's been through this many times with many other patients. "But I'm afraid that isn't an option. I'm sorry."

No you aren't. "Will you please leave me alone?"

The kind healer heads to the door, his white shoes squishing like he has water in them. "Of course. You'll have a while. Get yourself prepared."

I nod, and he leaves, closing another steel door behind him. Bringing my knees closer to my chest, I roll over and press my cheek to the arm of the plush chair, closing my eyes. A couple of crystal, salty tears slide over my cheeks, and I sniffle, hating that I am being weak and weepy, but it is the end of the line for me. I will be leaving Ian to the wolves, an open book to Claudette, who will know exactly how to get information from him. And, unlike me, she will not be affected by his memories, she will not feel a connection, a _love_, for Wanderer. They will all die.

"Gotta get outta here." I sharp voice says below my ear. "Gotta. I gotta."

I sit up, adjusting my body so it is straight in the chair. Where did the voice come from?

"Please. Don't hurt me. Gotta. Get out. Get out."

I look down, and peer around the chair, catching a glimpse of a wildly curly, brown hair. Bending deeper, I see a small leg, sheathed in dark pants that hug the legs, a soft, pink sweater.

"Is somebody back there?" I weakly gasp, my voice cracked from the earlier crying. "Hello?"

"Don't hurt me." The voice repeats, chanting , almost.

"I won't hurt you." I whisper after climbing softly onto the floor, and lean against the chair. Giddily, I imagine it that I am trying to coax an animal out of a hiding place. "Please come out."

"You're going to hurt me." The voice whimpers sadly, and the curly haired woman sinks back farther into her hiding place, her only sense of security.

"No I won't." I promise. "I'm like you. Waiting for something terrible."

With a scuffle and a scraping noise, the woman crawls out. This is hard because her hands are handcuffed together in front of her. She is generally small, but extremely voluptuous, though that is not what I notice at first. I take her small shoulders and lift her up, as she is having trouble getting her body up off the white, linoleum floor.

She leans back and pants from the exertion, her broad chest heaving up and down. Her small, short legs sprawl out in front of her, and she is barefoot, her toes painted a faded purple that is mostly scratched off. Her long, pink sweater, obviously not made for the Arizona heat, is folded over her wide hips. My eyes trace up to her slim, tan neck, and land on her eyes, a reflective, soul-like glimmer. But her eyes are different – the pupils glow radiantly, but the surrounding irises are a deep, chocolate brown. Most of her face is cloaked by so much curly, dark heavy hair. She is a unique one, I give her that, but what is she doing here?

"Thank you." She catches her breath, her cuffed hands in her lap. Like me, she has sores around her wrists, meaning they have been in place for a long time.

"You're welcome." I sit back, running my fingers over my own welts. "Were you hiding from someone?"

"No." The handcuffs jingle. "They brought me here like they brought you here. I just went a little crazy. That happens sometimes."

"What does? They bringing you here?"

"No. Me going crazy." She sends me an apologetic glance, her odd eyes rolling up to meet mine. "Why are you here?"

I sigh, willing Ian to come back, yet again. He doesn't, of course. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you – what is your name again?"

"I didn't say." The woman brushes back her waves of billowing hair with her wrists. "It's, um, Victoria. Vick."

"Dancing Flame." I shake her hand, or as much as I can with her restraints. "I'm from the Fire Planet."

"I can tell." She smiles weakly. "I'm from Earth."

I raise my eyebrows. "You were born a human?"

"Look at me, Dancing Flame." Vick gets my full attention, her odd eyes focusing in on mine. "I _am_ a human."

I stare back at her, dumbfounded. "What?" How is this possible? Her eyes are silvery, not exactly like mine, but they are still there.

"A soul was inserted into my body." She explains like she is telling an ancient tale from long ago. "I remained. I didn't leave, I was still there in the back of my mind. Trapped. I fought, I battled for years to be heard. I became stronger, and eventually, I could take over my body once again. But sometimes – _she _takes over again."

Is all of this even _possible?!_ It can't be! Ian is one of the strongest people I know, he would have for sure been able to take over his body once again. I shakily ask her, "Is that why you're here?"

She nods. "Yes. She was a Seeker before I took over again. She put me in here, she took us here when she was in control for a short time. I fought her off and woke up in here."

"I was found out in the desert." I say, leaning my head back against the chair. "The man who owned this body before I was inserted – he lead me, he was trying to get me to – others of his kind. I almost died. Woke up in here. Haven't heard from him since."

"At least he isn't mean." Vick says almost childishly. "Maybe he'll just stay away, Dancing Flame."

"Thing is – I don't want him to." I vent to this broken woman, sighing deeply. "I miss him, if that doesn't sound too crazy."

"It's nothing compared to what I've gone through." She doesn't seem at all frazzled by my bizarre situation. "But I'm getting out of here. Today, Dancing Flame. I don't want to be – disposed of."

"Vick-" Hardly able to get my words out, I stutter to the insane woman. "You mean – break out?"

"Yes." She whispers, nodding her head in a way so her huge amount of hair bobs. "And you can come with me, Dancing Flame."

I just stare at her, gaping, my mouth open stupidly. What is she saying?!

"Help me up, Dancing Flame." She holds her hands out, together, in front of her. "And open that God damn door before the handlers come back."

Xxx

Xxx

There is no source of happiness anymore for me in the caves. The things I once enjoyed, (tending to Jeb's fields, playing soccer, spending time with Melanie and Jamie), are no longer enjoyable with this empty space left in my life. No life is in with me without him. He is the glue that held me together, and I am falling apart without him.

_Let me out of here! _The voice shouts in my head, sobbing uncontrollably in my mind. She doesn't yet understand what is happening how Melanie did. But she is there, alright. She is alive and well. Pet.

He told me he would wait for me here. And so here I sit, waiting for him to return.

I roll onto my back on the bed we once shared, staring up at the small, bright light streaming in through the hole in the ceiling, the tiny, blue patch of sky. Outside. Where Ian is.

_Help me! Help me! _Pet shouts. It is only a matter of time she figures out what happened. That I took over her body. Moaning, I curl into a little ball, closing my eyes.

Wherever you are, Ian, I hope things are going a lot better for you. Please let it be true.

**Yay! Next chapter, D.F. is breakin' out! Let me know whatcha think! Review review review! Thank you!**

**Also, check out other Host stories I LOVE by aqualizzard or straighttoneverland **

**They totally rock! Check out their stories! **

**Love you guys!**

**Rainbow**


	10. Escaped

**Hello, my loves! Sorry it's been a while! Please, PLEASE review! I need suggestions on where to take the next few chapters. I am open to any perspectives of characters and any ideas!  
Thanks to all my loyal reviewers! I love you guys!  
Again, I would love and appreciate your reviews!  
Love,**

**Rainbow**

Ten: Escaped

"Do you really think Ian is in there?" Mel asks as she puts her feet up on the narrow dashboard of the weathered jeep. The canvas is covering the body of it, casing up in, and we each have a pair of nondescript dark sunglasses.

"Yes." I stare through the dark cloak up to the looming building before us. The Seekers' Headquarters. Somewhere in the bowels of this soul prison, Ian is kept. Or, otherwise, Ian's body.

"We'll get him out." Burns speaks from the driver's side, his freckled hands on the wheel. Mel and I dare not tell anyone else, and Burns is a good a soul as Wanda to trust with helping us and keeping it a secret. He is fiercely protective as well, and he will help up get Ian out. His connection with Wanda helps him fight for her stronger.

"Alright." Melanie combs her hair backwards through her hair that has fully grown out to its original length now. "Let's go in."

OOO

OOO

The corridor is unlighted and cloaked in shadows as I stumble down it in my worn-out boots. Vick's hand grips tightly to my wrist, warmth emanating from her skin as she pads quietly next to me, her bare feet more forgiving than my own clunky shoes. The only noise is her breathing gently against my shoulder; she only comes up my forearm.

"Which way do I go?" I relay to her raspily as we come to a crossway in the hallway.

"Right." She hisses back, and we turn down the even darker hallway. Her nails dig into my skin, and I put my hand on her back to guide her, my fingers on the soft fabric of her sweater.

"How did you know which way to go?" Risking talking, I speak to her, treading carefully. Why is no one down here? For sure they would not have left _all _of the doors unguarded.

"I didn't." Without meeting my gaze, Vick replies. "I'm right handed."

I let out my breath with nervousness as we pass under a dimly-lit ceiling light, our shadows sweeping along the wall with us. "Great."

"What did you want me to do, Dancing Flame?" Her voice becomes defensive, and I quickly backtrack, never intending for her feelings to be bruised.

"I'm sorry. I'm just nervous."

"You aren't the only one."

Down a few more twists and turns, Vick and I are silent. Her chest heaves up in down, her exuberant amount of cleavage prominent as she pants. I try not to notice, but her sweater is quite low-down, and anyone would stare. She doesn't seem to notice, and I avert my gaze to her small, almost child-like bare feet carrying her along the linoleum underground floor.

"Prepare the…" I far-away voice travels towards us and I catch fragments of the conversation as they approach us. "She needs to…"

"Hide!" Vick yelps in my ear and leaps to the wall as if standing still against it will solve all of our problems. She seems frozen, leaving it up to me. Jumping into action, I pull on the door knob of the nearest door, shoving her in before me and closing it as quietly as I can muster. Of course, there are no locks needed in the soul's world. My world.

"Are they-" A soft voice comes in the dark, a whimper on the verge of tears.

"Shh." I shush Vick as I hear her whimper. "It's alright. I don't think they're past yet, no."

"Dancing Flame." The voice comes a quiver on the verge of tears. I reach out in the dark and pull her small, curved body to mine, shushing her softly. "I'm afraid."

"It's alright. Just stay quiet." Oddly, I have an urge of bursting confidence, a sense of responsibility. I _will_ protect Victoria, I now have a purpose. My body, however much I love it, is disposable as long as I can help Vick into freedom.

"W-where are w-we?" After a long time, her lips quiver against my chest as she asks through her tears. Although I am hesitant to let her go, she still seems unstable and needy of my comfort, I unsnake my arms from around her, patting the top of her head. I run my hands along the wall, searching for a switch. My hand touches a small lever on the wall and flip it on.

A dim, yellow light floods into the room, almost an ancient brightness from a different time. Vick's odd, half-soul eyes dilate to the change in scenery, and we take in our surroundings.

It is a storage closet, lucky for us. Behind us is a glass case, stocked full of silver containers and tubes, reading things like: _**CALM, HEAL, SEAL, GROW,**_ and many others. Medicine. I know that enough that these are the advanced methods healers use to cure human bodies.

"Dancing Flame." Vick speaks to my right, and I turn to see her holding up a pure white cloak. Seeker-issued clothing.

"Get dressed." I tell her, searching through the racks of clothing for a coat of my size, and pull it on, zipping it over my own clothes. I search for pants large enough to fit over my stained jeans I've been wearing for so long.

"No shoes." Vick buttons her own fitted coat, staring down at her toes.

"Let's hope they don't notice." I run my fingers through my matted, dirty hair, matted down from lying on the cold, hard table for days. Souls will not be suspicious either way, but these are _Seekers_. I have learned in my short time on Earth that they are different, almost a separate breed. They can be unkind and suspicious, and most will notice about us. The clothes will help, but how much?

"What about my eyes?" She whispers, her voice full of tremors.

"They're still partly soul." I tell her. "Keep your eyes down, alright?"

"Alright. Shall we go?" I can tell she just wants to get it over with.

"Hold on." I take a white backpack-like bag that seems to be discarded on the floor, and open the glass case containing the extra storage of medicine. Carefully, yet quickly and quietly, I fit as many random cases into the small pack the best I can, zipping it up and slinging it over my shoulder. "I'm ready."

Regaining her confidence, Vick cracks open the door to the storage closet and peeks out, beckoning to me. Disguised as Seekers, we will blend in, to a fault, but Seekers are not like other souls. They are easily suspicious, and they will suspect us before too long.

The both of us creep down the hall, and come to a stop at an elevator with a silver door, opening for a man to a crowd of people stuffed into the small space.

"Excuse me, sir." I take Vick's arm and lead her towards the small open spaces in the nearly-full compartment. "Would you mind if we squeeze in?"

"Dancing Flame, there's no room." Hisses Vick as I fit her into a small space among the other seekers; since she is so tiny, she doesn't require much space.

"Yes there is." I force a smile on my face and step in myself.

"Which floor are you traveling to, sir?" The man nearest the button asks as we settle in.

"Umm…" I look to Vick, but she only shrugs helplessly.

"Ground floor?" He asks, kindly smiling. Relieved, I relax my shoulders, yet still stand up straight like a Seeker does.

"Yes please." I let my breath out. "Sir."

We ride along with idle polite chitchat, though my heart is racing in my chest, and I am sure that Vick is in the same situation. She keeps her gaze cast down mostly, still paranoid about her eyes and being recognized. As soon as we step off the elevator, I am sure she is feeling better, though, and as we walk, she sort of half hides behind me, her gaze on her bare feet.

"There's the exit." I whisper to her.

"Do we just – walk out?" Quietly, she murmurs back to me. "Is it that easy, Dancing Flame?"

"Shh." I shush her. "I need to concentrate."

The both of us head toward the exit, walking with long strides toward our freedom, toward our _lives_. Freedom is within reach. We will keep our bodies. Oh Ian, you would be proud of me.

"Dancing Flame!" There is a shrill voice behind me, a calling of my name over the speaking of Seekers and Healers around us at desks and around tables in a lobby-like area. Reflexively, I turn to see the figure of Healer Rebecca coming my way quickly.

"Run." Vick pulls on my arm as the Healer approaches us, her face florid and flushed. Vick's face is ashen and petrified as she pulls on my arm. "Come on!"

"Dancing Flame, what are you doing? Why are you not downstairs?" The Healer looks at me with confusion and worry. Unlike the Seekers I have met, she is kind and worrisome towards her patients.

"Excuse me, Healer." I pull away from her while turning towards the exit again to follow Vick.

"No, Dancing Flame!" Her voice quaking, she grabs my arm. "I must do my duty. Seekers!" Cries her shrill voice, and most of the hall turns their heads at the ruckus. "Seekers, please help! A patient needs my help, and he is resisting!"

"No!" I cry without a choice, and break away from Healer Rebecca. Sprinting, my legs pumping to the limit, I leap for the exit, grabbing Vick's arm. There is no way that I am leaving her now. She deserves her freedom as much as I do, and I already promised myself in my mind that I would help her.

"Stop!" A voice comes behind us as we push through the glass doors. "Please! We only want peace!"

"Aw, _hell_." I moan, entering the parking lot. There are Seekers outside as well, assembling.

"What do we do?!" Vick yells over the chaos.

"Run!" I yell frantically, sprinting in the opposite direction of the others.

"We only want peace! We want to help you!" A male Seeker grabs my arm, holding a bottle labeled _**PEACE**_. He sprays it at me, towards my eyes, but I duck, knocking him over with my hand. He goes sprawling hard on the asphalt, and another Seeker runs to assist him.

"Get in the car!" I scream to Vick as the Seekers are disoriented, and throw open the unlocked door to the nearest car. I slide into the driver's side, slamming the door shut, my hands searching under the seats, up in the sun visor, in the compartments for the keys.

_Ian, please! PLEASE! Come back! I need you, what do I do?!_

A strident scream breaks the barrier of my mind from reality, and red clouds my vision. It is like Vick is falling in slow motion, her knees first hitting the gravel with a thud, her hands coming next, one of her palms cupping the side of her body, near her hip. Red gushes between her fingers, rust smell seeping into my nose.

"Dancing Flame." Her mouth forms my name, but I can't hear the noise. Only ringing in my ears as she falls on her hands and knees. Seekers are flooding in, swarming her. No. NO. I said I would protect her!

Without warning, I leap over the passenger seat to her open door and lift her gingerly in my solid arms, setting her curled-in body on the seat. The slippery surface of the car seat becomes slickwith blood, and I pull both the doors shut and lock us in. Against the glass of the window, a man presses up against it, his bright, red hair and freckles standing out, not to mention his un-Seeker, non-white clothes. Another bystander trying to help out? There are two other people, though. Two other souls with dark sunglasses, a man and a woman? Who are they? Why are they familiar? I pull my gaze away from them to focus on the task before me.

"Keys. Keys." I mutter to myself, searching frantically with shaking hands. I open the top sun visor, and the pair falls down into my lap, jingling. Wildly, I plug the keys into the socket, revving the car and pressing my foot to the gas. We shoot out of the parking lot like a rocket, and soon we are on the road.

"Vick." My voice shakes as I dare take a peek at her. She is curled up on her side, in on the bleeding gash soaking through her white coat. "Vick, what happened?"

"S-sh-shot." Her teeth chatter as she talks, in shock. "Th-they used r-real b-b-bullets."

This is insane. I never though the Seekers would intentionally hurt us, except for Claudette, but she is fanatical anyway. And she is bleeding an awful lot…

"I'll find you a doctor." I turn down a street, down to the speed limit again.

"No one's f-f-follow-ing us." She peers with her bloodshot, dilated eyes in the rearview mirror. In fact, we are not trailed at all.

"So I'll find you help." I set my gaze, getting out of the city immediately. The concern I have for this woman that I've only just met – it is strange. Probably because she was in the same predicament that I had been in. And she is human. Like Ian.

"N-no." Her lips quiver as she tries to speak. "Don't. We need to g-get away."

"Then I have medicine." While steering with one hand, I pull out the small, white pack with the bottles I had stolen from earlier. "We'll pull over, and I'll help you."

"N-no use." Continues Vick. "You have to g-get the bullet out."

I know she is right, and I pull over to the side of the road once we are completely out of town, and help her to lie down in the back seat. I remove her jacket and rip away the ruined fabric of her pink sweater. As best as I can, I tie pieces of my coat around the wound to retain the blood. She cries out as my fingers near her wound while tying it tight, and I make her as comfortable as I can in the back.

As I expected, we run out of gas. This is probably someone's personal car which they only filled up occasionally, enough gas to get to and from work. On the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, I sit in the seat for a moment, just thinking and staring at the desert landscape. It is barren with a few plateaus and sparse plants, but otherwise it all appears the same.

_Ian, where do I go?_ I moan in my head. _What do I do now?_

What am I doing? What did I expect to do as soon as I escaped? And with Vick so hurt, there isn't much TO do.

"We have to go, Vick." I say as cheerfully as I can. At least I have a hope we are somewhat close to where Ian was leading me in the first place. Maybe we can walk along the road until I see something that looks familiar.

"I'm tired." She whimpers as I pick her up and try to set her on her feet. She wobbles and crumples.

"I know. Only a little while longer." I lie. Since when do I lie? Lying is wrong.

She looks like she is in too much pain to answer, so I pick her up in my arms, carrying her easily.

We walk along the bare road for what seems like forever, swaying as I walk with Vick in my arms. She is limp, her arm hanging down against my chest, and I hope that she is still breathing. She HAS to be breathing.

"Almost there." I tell her and myself as we walk into the distance. "Almost there."

I hardly notice as she off-road car rumbles up behind us; I just keep walking. I don't turn around, just listen to the voices I think I am hallucinating.

"Oh, geez, it's him."

"Burns, can I get some help?"

"Aw, fuck. Is that girl dead?"

"I don't know. Don't be insensitive."

Three voices. Two male, one female.

_Make it quick._ I silently hope to myself.

"Don't hurt him." The woman says with a last attempt to tame the men.

"He'll come willingly." The softer voice says, and I turn to the same fiery, red-haired male I remember from the Seekers' Headquarters. "I do not want to hurt you. May I have the girl?"

Slowly, as if in slow motion, I look down to motionless Vick in my arms, and gradually hand her over. He transfers her to the other male, who still looks familiar to me, but I can't put my finger on it. Everything is fuzzy right now.

"I'm sorry." The man says as his fist comes up. It connects with my temple, and I suddenly can't remember my name.

**Soooo, what did ya think? Any thoughts, suggestions? I would LOVE to hear! Review box is right down below! Again, love you guys! Sorry about the half cliff hanger….**

**Love,**

**Rainbow**


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